


The Good, the Bad and the Dead

by 1000lux



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Oz (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Ghosts, M/M, Major Character Death but still Happy Ending, Oz is haunted, Relationship Issues, Self-Denial, but kinda cracky sometimes, happy end, horror...actually, it's still Oz even haunted, set during season 5, timelines don't exactly work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We're somewhere at the beginning of season 5. </p>
<p>Cloutier is dead. Chris is on deathrow. Peter is in Psych Ward. Jia Kenmin is dead. Cyril is not yet on deathrow.</p>
<p>Elliot and Olivia arrive at Oz to investigate the Peter-Case, while the Winchesters arrive there about the same time to investigate something quite different.<br/>Meanwhile at Oz, there've been strange things happening.</p>
<p>Get ready for long work hours, a rise in the market for salt, bad living arrangements, bitch-fights between McManus and Glynn...And maybe there's even going to be another riot.</p>
<p>Some people are going to get haunted by their darkest hours, some people are just going to be haunted by some asshole ghost. And some people are going to get haunted by that annoying guy they always had a thing for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good, the Bad and the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I own none of the TV series nor it's characters!
> 
> ## An incredible big **Thank You** goes to Ozsaur for betaing my story, when she was already busy enough with running the whole Big Bang!!!
> 
> If you find errors, whether grammar, spelling or storyline, please report it back to me. The story is still in the betaing process. ( ´ ▽ ` )b

# [Art for the Story, by NINdevotee!!!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/993234)

* * *

* * *

Part 1: Start

* * *

»It's strange to be trapped inside a building. It's strange to be trapped inside a body. But it's  
probably even stranger to be trapped inside a building without a body.  
Those of you that have a little problem with blood should probably leave now. But of course  
none of those who are here, do.«

* * *

"Pray with me sister. No one will leave this place."

"What are you talking about, Peter? You don't have a life sentence. You will be out of here  
eventually."

* * *

When Ryan returned to his pod he found Cyril cheerfully talking to himself. Ryan mussed his  
hair fondly.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm playing with my new friend Mr. D," Cyril replied, happily.

* * *

"Where do I have to turn next," Elliot asked Olivia, who was reading the map.

"Second to the left. Can't be far now."

"This is out of our jurisdiction."

"Yeah, but the therapist there knows Cragen from school or something, so she called in some  
favors," Elliot said.

"Speaking of school, how are your kids, Elliot?"

"Not exactly happy, but they knew it was coming," Elliot said with a shrug, not wanting to talk   
about it.

"You think it's really over this time?"

"Yeah, she filed for divorce after all. And if we're both sincere about it, we both knew it was  
over for some time now. She will always mean a lot to me, but that's not enough. And she  
shouldn't have to be satisfied with that."

* * *

It was his first day back at work since the fire in the chapel. He felt awkward, insecure in a   
way he hadn't since he'd started working here. He was also appalled by the deep level of  
satisfaction he felt for Timmy Kirk being transferred to death row soon. He'd never been a   
supporter of death penalty. He should be able to forgive, or maybe at least not sink so low as   
to want revenge.  
He really needed a smoke. Damn, he could have sworn he still had some in this cupboard.

"Ray, you have to leave immediately."

Father Mukada whipped around, recognizing the voice, though he hadn't heard it for a long time.

"Je... Jerimiah? But... What's with your face... ? Where have you... we... You were gone suddenly!"

"Leave this place! Leave! NOW!"

* * *

Chris was back. Not in Cedar Junction. Not in Benchley Memorial. Just in the infirmary.  
But he couldn't go see him. No matter how much the need tugged at his soul, there  
was a much stronger claim, a death on his conscience. Adam's weight dragging him down   
confining him to this spot, looking up at him with dead eyes. It was his punishment. His   
redemption. And how he hated it.

* * *

"Where's Ray? I haven't been able to say hi to him, now that he's back."

"He's gone home, Pete," McManus answered. "He said something about PTSD and having   
returned too early."

"Oh, poor Ray. Maybe I should give him a call later."

* * *

"What's the matter now," McManus asked, irritated when he was summoned to Glynn's office.  
"Does the Governor maybe want to avoid costs by denying the inmates three meals a day?"

"We have a prison break, Tim," Glynn answered, wearily.

"What?"

"Timmy Kirk is missing from Unit B."

"That's not a prison break. For all I know, one of the prisoners chopped him to pieces and flushed   
him down the toilet."

"That's why we haven't informed the press yet. But we need to find him soon, dead or alive."

"Rather dead," McManus murmured when he left the office.

* * *

The new ones were led to their units. Schillinger was already making some dirty remark to one of  
his buddies, when one of the new fishs caught his eye. He wasn't exceptionally tall, though he seemed to  
work out. Probably late twenties or something, with a face that wouldn't do him any good in here. 

Some people just had bad luck, but after all, someone had to stay at Unit B. Mineo shook his head   
in regret. Sometimes he really wondered if someone ever thought about the arranging of the cellmates.   
But on the other hand, compassion was unnecessary here. They were in a Level 4 prison after all, so pretty  
boy had obviously done something, that had him ending up here.

Schillinger and his men had already gathered to accost his new cellmate. They were looking  
like children under the Christmas tree, only there was a lot more leering going on. 

"Well, aren't you a pretty one," Schillinger said, walking into the cell where the newbie had  
just thrown his stuff on the lower bunk.

"Thanks," The guy answered dryly.

"Oh, aren't we feisty," Schillinger remarked, seemingly delighted by the thought of someone offering   
some resistance before breaking.

"Now, look at me when I'm talking to you, pretty boy."

The guy turned around and spoke in an easygoing manner. "I know I probably look like those pictures in   
Playgirl that you like to jerk off to," He made a regretful click with his tongue, "but I'm actually not   
into guys. We can still be best buddies, though." He shot him a grin, that would have been considered   
charming, usually. 

Roaring laughter broke out among the bystanding Aryans. Schillinger shot them a look that silenced them instantly.

"You're going to learn your place, you little bitch," He snarled.

"What? From you, daddy?" He fluttered his eyelashes at Schillinger.

Schillinger turned to his sidekicks. The time for playing was over.

"I think it's time to give you a proper welcome. Hold him down for me, boys."

 

"What's this ruckus, all about?" D'Agnasti yelled, when he came back from the toilet.

"The Aryans are going at one of the new ones," An inmate told him good-humoredly.

"Shit! Lockdown! Lockdown!"

Once he'd gathered some more CO's around him they charged towards where inmates  
were still milling around each other.

"Can't you damn animals wait until my shifts over?" He yelled, starting to beat down with his   
baton on the first Aryan he could reach. There were so many, he couldn't really see what was going   
on in the center of it.

"Dammit! Get off him!" D'Agnasti yelled, thrashing down on him with his baton. The   
other Aryans, those who were still conscious, were being restrained by the other hacks. Dean  
ignored him for a moment, dunking Schillinger's head one more time into the toilet.

* * *

»Prisoner number 99K405, Dean Ackles. Convicted March 14, 2002. Armed robbery.   
Resistance against the police. Possession of illegal firearms. Sentence: 20 years. Up for   
parole in 10.«

* * *

Toby picked up his new cellmate. He'd been sent here for armed robbery, together with his  
accomplice as far as Toby knew. Despite him being very tall, he looked pretty lost and scared.

"I'm Tobias Beecher. I'm your new sponsor."

"I'm Sam Padalecki," He was offered a nervous handshake.

"I know you're probably scared, but you can get through it," Toby said kindly, trying to put the   
boy at ease, "I'm going to show you the ropes. You're first time in prison?"

"Not exactly... " Sam squirmed. 

"Oh, really," Toby looked at him, surprised.

"It was a very short time... "

"Well, then, I guess there's not much here new to you. I'll show you our pod."

While Sam followed him, taking in the whole strange looking unit, Toby was approached by   
another inmate.

"Hey, Beecher! Keller's back on death row."

Instantly, Toby froze on the spot, his expression troubled, seeming not to realize that Sam was   
still there.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked carefully.

Toby looked at him as if he'd just become aware to his presence.

"Yes, I am," He answered, gravely.

Before Sam could answer anything, a black inmate, Sam didn't know walked past them.

"Hey, Beecher, hear your boyfriend is back on death row." He turned to Sam, "I'd be careful at night,   
new fish. With his boyfriend on death row, he might need someone to cuddle at night," he said, wiggling   
his eyebrows suggestively. With that he walked off. Toby turned to Sam, to explain the situation,   
expecting disgust or maybe fear. But he was met with a concerned expression.

"You're boyfriend's on death row?"

"Yeah," Toby answered startled.

"Is he appealing the case? Has he already requested a written copy of the court transcript?"

"You know a lot about that stuff."

"Actually, I wanted to go to law school, but then my dad vanished, my fiancé got murdered  
and... stuff happened."

"What a coincidence, I used to be a lawyer before I got disbarred. But you're young you can  
still study, maybe even at prison."

"No," Sam answered strained, "Too much has happened. And it doesn't look like all this shit  
is about to end soon."

* * *

"Stay the fuck away from him!"

"They're getting more with every passing day. You need to get me out of here. You owe me   
that much."

"You know it's not that easy, I'm not Ortolani."

"Who the fuck are you talking to, Schibetta?"

* * *

The pounding started. There was really no respite in solitary these days. Howell groaned and  
put her magazine away.

"Shut the fuck up!" She yelled in the direction of Alvarez' cell and turned back to her   
magazine.

"Let me out of here!" BAM! "LET ME OUT OF HERE!" BAM! "LETMEOUTOFHERE!"

"Jesus!" There was really no use trying to continue reading with that ruckus. Alvarez better  
have a very good explanation for this.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

"Shit, Alvarez! What's the matter now?" Howell opened the little window, unnerved.

"Aaah! Aaaaaah! AAAAAH!!!"

 

"It wasn't me," Miguel stated again, desperately.

"Who are you trying to fool?" McManus asked angrily, "She opened the window to your cell   
and was blinded the same way you had blinded another CO before."

"Where should I have gotten the weapon from? I was in solitary!"

"Well, who else could have done it? A ghost?"

"Exactly! That's what I'm trying to tell you the whole time!"

* * *

When they arrived, a female CO was just brought out to be transported to the hospital. Her  
eyes were covered with gauze, but bloody blotches were starting to seep through.

"What the fuck," Elliot exclaimed, watching the trolley being pushed outside.

"Something similar happened here two years ago. I read something about it," Olivia told him.

"Looks like it's going to be an awesome day," Elliot said.

"It really does," Olivia said disgusted, as a rat ran past her.

* * *

"What did you do?" McManus asked with a mixture of horror and awe, while he led Sister  
Pete to Glynn's office.

"I don't know what you mean, Tim."

"The SVU is here! Someone called them concerning Peter Schibetta's rape, saying they weren't  
sure the case was given the necessary attention."

"Well," Sister Pete said unapologetically, "I won't have Leo living out his personal grudges in  
favor of the right thing to do."

 

"Peter Marie," Glynn was pacing up and down in the room, "what did you think you were doing undermining   
my authority like that?"

"I gave you many chances to do the right thing, Leo," Sister Pete answered cooly, not in the   
least intimidated. "You made your bed. Now lie in it."

 

"I'm Detective Benson. This is my partner Detective Stabler. We're here to investigate on behalf of  
the rape of Peter Schibetta."

"Sorry, but could I see your ID?" Glynn asked. They were all staring flabbergastedly at Elliot.

"Should we tell him?" Sister Pete whispered to McManus.

"Not necessary. Keller's on death row, he won't see him anyway."

"What about the others?"

 

"Detective Stabler, do you have a twin brother?" Sister Peter Marie asked.

"Not to my knowledge."

 

"All right everybody! This is Detective Benson and Detective Stabler. They will be investigating   
the rape of Peter Schibetta. I expect everyone to cooperate with them."

* * *

"Your therapist, Sister Peter Marie Raimondo, made a report to our departement because she didn't   
feel like the internal investigation took the case seriously enough. According to your file, the   
facts of the case aren't in question. So this is basically about getting the identity of the perpetrator   
and pinning the deed on him. Why don't you tell us from your perspective what happened." 

Peter just laughed, "Have you ever investigated inside a prison before, Detectives?"

"As a matter of fact we did."

"Then you should know that there's no use. What do you think would happen to me if I told you  
the names?" Peter asked with a both amused and resigned patience.

"We can protect you."

"This is a maximum security prison, level 4, even the hacks can't protect themselves here."

"So what about your reputation?" Elliot asked provokingly. "What will your family say to this,  
if the perps go unpunished?"

"If you've read my file, then you should know that my reputation's been history since the first  
time."

"You're in psych ward, that's a little out of Schillinger's range, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, if you already have all the answers what are you asking me for?"

They both looked at him in silence. A rat jumped on the table from somewhere and ran over   
it between them. Peter broke up into a giggle.

* * *

"This is going to be a tough one," Elliot shook his head.

"He won't be any harder than a traumatized kid," Olivia shrugged, "Do you think it would be easier if   
you talked to him alone? Would he feel less ashamed if I wasn't there?"

"He talked to that therapist nun, didn't he?"

They left the entrance hall, bidding goodnight to the CO at the desk.

"We'll have to come back tomorrow," He told the CO. "By the way, you should really call pest   
control."

* * *

At night a hand clasped over Ryan's mouth. He woke up with a start. A voice whispered in his  
ear, so close that he could feel the breath.

"What do you see, when you close your eyes, Ryan?"

It smelled burned. It smelled of burned flesh.

* * *

Part 2: Day 2

* * *

"Aren't you going to see him?" Sam asked Toby in their pod, waiting for the hacks to let them out  
for breakfast.

"I can't."

"Why? I thought you were doing mail, so you'd get to death row."

Toby let out a harsh laugh.

"Do you know what I did to get that work detail? I gave them a boy I was sharing a pod with. I  
was supposed to protect him and I sold him out. He was a rapist himself, but he didn't deserve  
this. And now he's dead. The only thing I can do to atone for this is staying away from Chris."

Oh god. He wanted to see him so badly. He was so close now. He could see him. Damn it, he  
could see him if he wanted to! It scared him when he thought about what he was willing to do  
for Chris. Never seeing Chris again? It was all easy to Kareem "Holy" Said, sure. But for the  
normal mortals trying to suffocate your feelings wasn't that easy.

"I once saved my brother's life and someone died because of that. I didn't know then, but it was   
still my fault." Sam said into the silence, "There's no limit to what we do for the people we love.   
And guilt accomplishes nothing. When the people you love are able to forgive you that should be enough."

"What do you know about guilt? I'm not talking about a little robbery."

"You've got no idea... The things I've done... The people that died because I was either too  
weak to fight myself and too arrogant to listen to my friends... "

"You were an addict?" Toby asked.

"Yeah, And I guess I'll always be one."

"Don't worry, I am too. Alcohol, Heroin. You?"

"Meth." Hopefully no one expected him to know how you actually took it. Sniffing? Injection?

* * *

Ryan was still feeling shaky; he'd barely been able to eat at breakfast. He felt   
exhausted from lack of sleep, but was afraid to close his eyes.

"Ryan? Mr. D says he wants to play with you."

"Not now, Cyril."

"But Mr. D says it's important," Cyril whined.

"Goddammit, Cyril! Leave me alone with your bullshit." He turned away, frowning.

"That's not very polite."

Ryan jerked around. 

"Did you say something, Cyril?" he asked, despite knowing that it hadn't been Cyril's voice.

"No, you're mean. I'm not talking to you any longer."

* * *

"Ackles! Get up!"

The hack threw him his clothes. Dean got up. It was about time he got out of here, back to   
where the real party was. There hadn't been much paranormal activity going on here.

"Listen, newbie," The hack started, "You got here only yesterday and went into the hole first  
thing. That's not a good way to start things here."

"I got a feeling my fellow inmates think about that differently," Dean responded good-naturedly.

"Don't try to get cute with me, boy. You won't like being on our bad side."

"I completely understand, sir," Dean answered with a wide eyed, serious face, "Pinky swear?"   
he added with a grin.

The hack sighed, "I see you're already a lost cause. Well, you'll feel quite at home in Unit B."

 

When he got back to Unit B some of the black guys where giving him high fives, while the   
Aryans sneered at him, stating pretty clear intentions.

Dean entered his cell, "Daddy, I'm home."

Schillinger looked down at him from the upper bunk, staring daggers.

"You made a big mistake, pretty boy. When I'm through with you, you will beg me to make you  
my bitch!"

"I doubt it," Dean said, while starting to brush his teeth, "I've been to hell already and I  
don't think there's much more to come."

* * *

On the one hand there was his guilt, on the other was Chris. Shit! Toby buried his face in his   
palms. Toby could still remember what Adam had looked like when he'd found him in the gym.  
But Chris... What if Chris really got the death penalty and he'd never see him again?  
It wasn't Chris' fault Adam was dead. And Toby hadn't tried something that stupid when he'd been   
in Adam's situation. ~Yeah, but you tried to kill yourself.~

 

"Sam, would you change work detail with me? I'll take your place at the dress factory."

"Of course. Are you sure about it?"

"Yeah, I am."

* * *

"I need to get out of here! I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE! IneedtogetoutofhereIneedtogetout  
ofhereIneedtogetoutofhere"

 

"It's been going on like this for hours," the unnerved CO told Sister Pete, "and now he's started  
pounding his head against the door. We thought he'd stop in time, but now he's already bleeding,  
maybe you could sedate him or something."

"No, no, that's not going to solve the problem. He's in a very unstable mental state. He's been  
prone to self-destructive behavior and suicide attempts before. Take him to psych ward."

"Come on, Sister, after what he did to Howell, he doesn't deserve your compassion."

"Everyone deserves my compassion. Now take him out."

* * *

"Hey, Pete."

Mukada had finally picked up the phone, just before Sister Pete was going to hang up again.  
He sounded worn out.

"Hey, Ray. How are you doing?"

The warmth in her voice made him instantly feel better, he felt his shoulder muscles unclench  
for what felt like the first time in 24 hours.

"Fine," He paused, "No. I don't know, Pete. I really don't know."

"It's normal to feel stressed after a traumatic event. You just have to go easy on yourself," she   
chided him.

"I... Is... Is it normal... possible to have hallucinations after... after something like this?"

"It sometimes occurs. Ray, did you have hallucinations? Yesterday, in Oz?"

"I... maybe. It." He stopped with an exasperated sigh. "Do you remember when Burns said he'd  
seen Cloutier in his cell?... That's crazy, right?"

"No, Ray, with a certain amount of stress our body tends to play tricks on us," she answered in  
a soothing voice. Like talking to a child. That didn't make him feel any better. "You should relax.  
Take some more days off and try to regain your strength. You'll see, everything will be fine in a  
few days."

He laughed tiredly, "I'll take your word on it."

* * *

"Hey, Dean," Sam greeted his brother at breakfast. "You already find something out?"

"How could I? I've just come back from the hole," Dean grunted. "Unless of course you mean the   
considerable hygiene problem they have here. I share my cell with a whole rat family."

"You should be grateful that they went so easy on you. From what I've heard, you normally have  
to spent a lot longer than just one night there."

"Oh god, please don't schoolmaster me now, Sammy. Not this early in the morning," He shot  
Sam a pleading look over the dark circles under his eyes. "But anyway I have to go and sit with  
my new friends from the Aryan Brotherhood."

Sam threw him, what Dean suspected to be The Look, a mother gives to her drug taking teenage  
son, while wondering what happened to that sweet baby he used to be.

"I'm kidding. I'm sitting with O'Reily," Dean said, nodding at the gangly looking guy with the smug   
grin, at the food counter, who'd just given him some extra bread rolls.

"How did you get to know him that fast?" Sam asked incredulously. "You've spent 80% of the  
time since we got here in the hole!"

"Oh, you know, we've got so much in common: helpless little brothers, extraordinary good looks... "

Sam just rolled his eyes and went back to the table where Toby, Rebadow and Busmalis were  
sitting.

"Is that the guy you did that robbery with?" Toby asked.

"Yeah... " Sam said with a sigh.

"The guy who attacked Schillinger?"

"Yeah. He does that," Sam said with an even deeper sigh.

"Are you guys friends?"

"Oh, we go way back. I've known him since I was a child."

"Did he get you into trouble?"

Sam contemplated that, "Yeah, there was that one time... and that other, no that was actually  
my fault... but back then... well, he did it to save me... but that's... no that was my fault too... and  
that other time when I had this girlfriend and he'd told me she was trouble and then it was the  
apocalypse... "

"Yeah," Busmalis entered the conversation, "When my fiancé left me it was like the world was  
ending too."

Sam was ripped out of his line of thought, remembering where he was and smiled at Busmalis,

"Yeah, exactly."

 

"That's your little brother over there?" Ryan nodded in Sam's direction.

"Yeah, that's him," Dean said fondly.

"You got different surnames."

"Yeah, half-brothers."

"Me, and that one too," Ryan said, pulling Cyril into a half-hug. "Well, you're lucky he's in   
Em City, he should be relatively safe here."

"Oh, I'm not worried. Sammi can look after himself," Dean chuckled.

"He seems to be tall and built enough, but he's got even worse puppy dog eyes than Cyril. It's  
a miracle the Aryans didn't snatch him right out of the arrivals room. You have to be careful,  
good fighter or not. If they get him in the group, he won't stand a chance."

"He's careful... Well unless, there are certain women I warn him about, which turn out to be  
demonic bitches that just use him. Or when he thinks he has to give people who are out to  
kill him a second chance. Or when he's high again," Dean sighed.

"Drug issues." Ryan asked, sympathetically.

"He's over that now. And it doesn't look like he'd get much supply here."

"Are you kidding me? The place is practically swimming in tits!"

"Yeah, he's very choosy about that."

"I guess he'll get along with Beecher well enough. Former drug habit. Idealistic worldview... "

"I'm glad he has someone he gets along with."

"I thought he could handle himself?"

"Yeah, you know, just in case he wakes up at night and feels the urge to cry or talk or whatever  
girls do," Dean laughed.

* * *

Ryan got up and walked over to the sink. He splashed cold water into his face. When he came up  
afterwards, he was looking into a face in the mirror. Only it was not his face.

"Long time no see, O'Reily."

 

"What's wrong with him?" Gloria asked alarmed, when the hacks brought Ryan in.

"Tried to smash his mirror with his fist."

 

"O'Reily, I thought you were over this kind of self destructive behavior." Sister Pete looked at  
him, concerned. "If this kind of 'accident' occurs again, I'll have to advise McManus to send you   
to the psych ward."

* * *

Peter was just being led back to psych ward, after a session with Sister Pete, when he encountered  
Schillinger. Suddenly he started laughing.

"What's the matter with you, nutcase," Schillinger asked irritated.

"It's right behind you," Peter snickered gleefully, "It's always right behind you."

He was still laughing when the CO had yanked him past Schillinger.

Schillinger decided not to continue his way to the gym, but return to the common room.

* * *

It was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine now. He was crazy. Maybe he'd really  
done it to Howell. He'd done it before, right? But it would be fine now. He'd get medication, or  
stronger meds that is, and those things would vanish. He'd maybe get life for what he did to her  
but at least they would be gone. Soon, he'd realize that it was nothing but his own mind. Yes, he  
was safe here.  
Miguel hunched down on the bed, pulling his legs close to his body, and started rocking back and  
forth.

 

"Well, welcome new roomie," Peter said stepping inside his cell.

Miguel only looked up shortly and muttered something like "shit".

"So what made you go over the bend?" he asked.

"There are" he hesitated, "I'm seeing 'things'" he finally answered, "Things that aren't there," He   
added in a whisper.

"Well, duh."

Miguel looked up at him with haunted eyes.

"No, you don't understand! I see things! But they're not there!"

"Oh, they're there alright."

* * *

"You did the right thing," Said told him.

"Yeah? What if Chris had been a woman, would you have told me to stop seeing him too?"

"But that's not the case."

Said's calm and gentle voice made him crazy. It wasn't normal to be so calm, so self-assured,  
when Toby felt like he was disintegrating inside.   
What was Chris thinking? What did he think was the reason for Toby not to visit him? Did he think that Toby had forgotten him? That he didn't love   
him anymore? Toby would never stop loving him. Through bad and worse.

Said saw the shift in his expression. He stepped in Toby's way and preventing him from leaving   
by grabbing his arm.

"You mustn't let your desire for him overpower your self-control," Said appealed to him. 

"No, Said," Toby shook his head determined. "I'm sorry, but you're wrong. That can't be the   
way." He shook his head again, as if to himself. "I don't know how I'll battle my guilt, but not like  
this. I'm not abandoning Chris."

Said reluctantly let go of his arm, looking at him with disappointment and worry.

 

"Sam! Sam, I've changed my mind," Toby came running towards Sam. It was almost time to   
deliver the mail.

"I thought you might. I haven't told McManus yet that I want to change work detail."

* * *

He pushed the cart through the door, seeing the familiar row of cells. He almost expected Chris'  
to be empty again.

But he was sitting there on his bunk, occupied with some book, looking like he always had.  
When he got closer, Chris turned around with a expression of disbelief, like he'd already   
recognized him by the sound of his steps. He looked like he didn't believe his eyes. Toby thought  
that maybe he didn't either.

"You've come," Chris stated.

"Hey. I haven't got any mail for you though." Why the fuck had he said that? He wasn't here  
for any stupid mail! 

Chris just gave him a little confused, but amused, smile. He stepped up to the bars and reached through,   
beckoning Toby to come closer.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Toby? Come here."

He did, taking Chris' outstretched hand into his own. Chris' smile widened.

"You're hair has gotten long." Chris remarked.

"Yeah, somehow missed to have it cut." Toby ran a strand of hair through his fingers, with a little smile.

"No, I like it that way."

"You're no one to judge, you like everything about me," Toby only now realized what he'd just  
said, a shocked laugh escaped his mouth.

"No, you got that right," Chris said, looking completely content and at ease. 

Toby snorted, smiling even so. He leaned against the bars, his forehead pressing against them, preventing him   
from getting closer. One hand was curled around one of the bars, the other was possessively gripping Chris' neck,   
while he kissed him.

Chris' right hand was resting on his lower back, while the other was buried in Toby's hair.

They kissed and kissed, then kissed some more. 

They didn't talk about Chris being on death row and what it would mean in the long run. They didn't talk about why   
Toby was only now coming to visit.

Soon enough they would be separated again, anyway. 

Toby kissed the new scar on Chris' face.

"It's nothing," Chris reassured him, shrugging it off. "Compared to this," He motioned to his  
ear, "I'm probably staying deaf on it. So don't get pissed if I don't seem to show you enough   
attention."

For a moment Toby felt a certain feeling of satisfaction, for what had happened to Howell. The  
next moment he was horrified by himself.

 

"Beecher! Time to leave."

* * *

McManus poured himself another coffee. Just a little bit of paperwork and then he'd call it a  
night.

It was crazy days. He looked at all the reports of prisoners having encountered strange things  
over the past days. With the Howell incident, Alvarez going mad and Ray going home after only  
one day of work, it all added up to a pretty big pile of shit. But at least he had the SVU   
investigating here. Though he didn't exactly welcome the bad press, he was glad those issues   
were finally dealt with in an appropriate manner.

His phone rang.

"McManus."

"We need you in Protective Custody, right now."

He couldn't quite place the voice of the CO, it sounded familiar enough and he could hardly  
remember everyone from every unit.

On his way out he tripped over something. A book. Strange, maybe on of the inmates he'd talked  
to today had thrown it on the floor. He frowned. It's his favorite 'Up from Slavery'. Those little  
punks should show a little more respect. He sat back down, skimming through it randomly.  
Disappointment and regret weighted heavily on him.

 

He woke up with a start. It's 1am. McManus gently put the book back onto the shelf before  
he picked up his jacket and left for home, though it's hardly worth it. He'll have to be here in  
5 hours anyway.

* * *

Despite Dean's efforts, he must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke up, disoriented,   
when something brushed over his leg.

"That better not you, Vern," he muttered, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness.

"Well, hi sweetheart."

Sitting at the end of his bunk was a pretty girl wearing what looked like a prisoners apron. He   
couldn't quite pin her age.

"I've never seen you here before," she said with a coquettish smile. "Are you new here, hon?"

"Been here since yesterday, only I spent most of the time in the hole."

"Oh, poor baby," she exclaimed, dismayed. "What for?" She had shuffled over to him and was  
now sitting beside him, cupping his face.

"I just helped Vern take a bath and they kind of misinterpreted my intentions," he shrugged with a wicked   
smile. She started to smile too, getting closer. 

"Oh," she purred, "you're a bad boy."

"I've been to hell, so I must have done something," He winked at her.

She leaned in to kiss him. He stopped her, pushing her away gently.

"Answer me one question first. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, haven't I told you yet?" She turned serious suddenly. "I'm looking for my baby. It must be  
here somewhere."

"Why would your baby be here?" Dean asked, looking at her in apprehension.

"Well, of course, because it's daddy is here," she told him as if it was obvious.

"Vern?" he asked disbelieving.

"Why, yes."

"You were a prisoner here, too?" He asked.

"Yes, darling, but it was all a horrible mistake. You must know," she took his hand, "my daughter  
died in a tragic accident."

"What's your name?"

She flashed him a bright smile, "Shirley."

"Why are you here, Shirley? I don't mean in this cell, but why are you »here«? What's going on  
here?"

"Well," she told him in a conversational tone, "Hell has opened it's porches and now they're   
coming to get us. My baby is the Antichrist."

"I see." ~I'm pretty sure that's not it.~

"If I see your baby, I'll let you know." ~Rosemary.~

"Thanks, darling," She caressed his cheek one more time.

"Anytime" ~for the local crazy woman~, he forced a smile, "I'll tell Vern you said hi."

"Sleep tight, hon," She said before vanishing.

* * *

Part 3: Day 3

* * *

"Morning Sister," McManus greeted her jovially when he walked into the recreation room.

"Tim, good morning," she looked worn out and sad.

"What's the matter, Sister?"

"A good question," she answered lost in thought. "What's the matter with any of us. Why would   
he do something like that?" She gripped her cup tighter.

"Why would who do what?" McManus asked, frowning.

She blinked at him with a start, realization dawning on her.

"You've just gotten here," she exclaimed, distressed.

"Yes, for god's sake, what's the matter, Pete?"

"Officer Peters hung himself last night during his shift in Protective Custody."

"Oh Christ," McManus buried his face in his palms. Remembering last nights phone call. Had he  
tried to call him? Was he asking for help? No, it hadn't been his voice. Peters was... had been  
early twenties, the voice on the phone had belonged to an older guy.

"Who had duty with him at that time?"

"I don't know."

* * *

Ryan opened his eyes to stare into another pair.

"You're not here," Ryan said, pressing his eyes shut.

"Just keep telling yourself. I won't be gone."

"What do you want?" he groaned.

"I don't know, what can you offer?" His voice dripped with cheerfulness.

Ryan doesn't look, but he can bet the guy is smiling at him.

"Not much, I guess, since even my sanity has left me by now."

"How about your life?"

"No, you can't have that," Ryan answered, turning towards the wall, resorting to the oldest  
defense mechanism of mankind. What you can't see isn't there.

"Not even to save your brother?"

Ryan's befuddled mind finally comes up with a question: Yeah, where the fuck is Cyril anyway?

"He's already at breakfast, don't you worry. I like Cyril. Always have."

He must have seen his gaze flicker down to the lower bunk because otherwise he can read his  
thoughts and that would just be creepy.

"Yeah, right," Ryan brushes a hand through his hair, trying to regain control over the conversation.  
"What do you mean to save his life?"

"Once his case is through, he'll get the death penalty for killing that chink. Then he won't be   
sleeping here any longer, safe and sound. Then he'll be sleeping on death row."

"What could »you« do about that?"

"A lot? Nothing? We gonna find out. But not yet. Right now I don't want anything. Yet. Right now   
I'm going to play with you for a bit longer. We've still got a little time. I'm only human."

* * *

"No, don't go near him. You'll just freak him out. It was hard enough to stop him from rocking."

"Who are you talking to, Schibetta?" Miguel asked warily.

"Just myself."

"We're safe here, right?"

Somehow it got to Peter, how Miguel sounded like a child all of a sudden. Yeah, helplessness  
can do that to a man.

"As safe as it gets."

Miguel relaxed a little, leaning back against the wall from his crouching position. A few moments  
later, Peter heard him start to pray. Over and over again.

He believed in god, too. That was the problem. He didn't think that any of them deserved divine  
intervention.

* * *

Chris gazed absentmindedly out of his cell. Being alone on death row was boring the hell  
out of him. Claire obviously didn't consider it necessary to stand guard. She was probably off  
doing her nails or something.

He was still musing, when he saw the child in the cell across from him. It was sitting on the floor,  
searching for something, humming a cheerful tune.

"Ah, there it is," the child exclaimed, delighted.

It picked up a small, severed hand and put it on the stump emerging from its  
sleeve.

"What are you?" Chris asked, feeling like someone just walked over his grave. He didn't have  
to ask 'Who are you?'. If the liking for odd nursery rhymes hadn't been indication enough, the  
close likeliness to Toby would have been.

The child turned around, smiling.

"I am judgment."

At that Chris snorted. "Well get in line with all the other people who want to judge us."

The child contemplated, "You're not scared of me."

"Maybe you're not my judgment," Chris suggested.

The child laughed delighted, in his high voice, then it deepened. "But Chris," Ronnie Barlog   
said with fondness.

"Can't you see?" Mondo Brown's voice echoed through the hall.

"I'm everyone's judgment." The creature was so close now, they were nearly touching. He  
felt the breath of Bryce Tibbetts on his face.

* * *

"Who's had the same shift as Peter last night?" He demanded of Murphy.

"No one, Tim. Delacruz is down with the flu, we don't have enough staff as it is."

* * *

"Why does it have to be you?" Ryan asked, defeated.

"Who would you prefer to haunt you?"

* * *

"Beecher," Ryan pulled him to the side, his face speaking of urgency. "We need to talk."

Toby realized that he was talking under his breath.

"The whole crazy thing," Ryan started.

"Ye-es?" Toby answered, bewildered.

"How do you know it's started?"

Toby looked even more bewildered. His eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline.

"Let's say there's a guy I know, and he's seeing things... "

"Are you back on drugs?"

"I wish I was."

 

"You're seeing Dino Ortolani? Honestly?" Toby looked at him unconvinced. "Sure nobody spiked your   
food?"

"I swear I see him! He talks to me, damn, he even talks to Cyril!"

"Cyril isn't exactly a credible witness," Toby let out a huff, looking at Ryan compassionate. "You   
really do believe what you say, don't you?"

* * *

"Shoohoo. Shoohoo." Dino was circled around Ryans's head, reclining midair, wearing a wicked  
smile.

"Could you be a little less ridiculous?"

Ryan's mood had undergone a lot of changes in the past days. He'd gone from disbelief and  
denial to outright panic. Which then had slowly declined to, what by now was, irritation. It wasn't  
like Dino was trying to be particularly scary since he'd revealed himself. Ryan didn't get  
the point of it, but he didn't really care either.

"Why so gloomy all day, O'Reily?" Dino asked snidely. "Maybe we could find someone to burn  
alive for you. Would that cheer you up?"

"Is that what this is about? You waited nearly five years to play the restless spirit that seeks  
revenge?"

"Nah, dumbass," Dino's smile turned into a superior grin. "I'm here to warn you about something  
far more dangerous than I could ever be."

"Yeah, right," Ryan turned back to his book, trying to ignore Dino, who was still basically curled  
around him. Dino just lowered his head to Ryan's shoulder, puffing air in his ear.

"What the fuck," Ryan jumped up, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling, one hand placed  
protectively over his ear.

"I~am~se~ri~ous," Dino purred, clearly enjoying this.

"Yeah, let me guess. It's the Antichrist," Ryan retorted deadpan.

"No, not quite. It's just a pretty vile, extremely powerful ghost, that will kill any living soul inside  
this prison," Dino answered yawning.

"So you're just here to check that I'm alright?"

"You can trust me, or you can refuse to. It's only a matter of time until no one can ignore what's happening   
here. I thought I might as well give my old chum a head start."

"Why would you care about what happens to anyone in here?"

"Whatever it is, it won't be content with ruling OZ. It'll go to town. I have family out there,"  
Dino answered.

"How do you know all this?" Ryan asked, still suspicious but by now worried too.

"I listen and I observe. Not much else I can do."

"Why don't you go hang around your family?"

"I thought you would have figured it out by now. I can't leave Oz. It's not only a life sentence, it's a  
death sentence."

* * *

"Beecher?" Sam asked.

"Hm?"

"There's something going on here... I might need your help."

"What type of 'going on' are we talking about?"

"I can't give you the details, but I need large quantities of salt."

"You should talk to O'Reily then."

 

"You need salt?" Ryan asked, though these days nothing really surprised him much.

"A lot of salt, as much as you can get me."

"What for?"

"You may not believe me, but," as was often the case, Sam decided that the truth might be the right  
approach, "we need it to fight against ghosts."

"Okay," Ryan answered nodding.

"Oh, god," Toby shook his head.

"You know there's one standing beside you, right?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Yes, I do," Ryan sighed.

Toby looked from one to the other, not believing his ears.

* * *

"Now this is getting really crazy," Chris whistled.

"I'm Detective Benson, this is my partner Detective Stabler." Olivia turned to Elliot, "Shit, he  
really does look like you."

Elliot prowled in front of the cell in the same fashion Chris was doing behind the bars. Two  
sides of one crazy-ass shifted mirror.

"Were you adopted?" Elliot asked finally.

"No."

"Neither was I."

"Strange coincidence then," Chris said.

"I don't believe in coincidence."

"Neither do I."

* * *

"My primary goal isn't to drive you insane, as fun as it might be. I'm here for more pressing  
issues. This doesn't just concern the living, it concerns the dead as well. This time, we're all   
in the same boat. If this shit blows up, we're all fucked!"

"Start making sense, Ortolani," Ryan groaned, contemplating, not for the first time today, if he should  
let himself get sent to the Psych Ward or maybe have father Mukada do an exorcism on him.

* * *

"Hey, Chris," Toby said smiling, when he came in with the mail cart. They hugged as much as it  
was possible through the bars, "There's a detective from the SVU here who looks exactly like  
you. Did you already see him?"

"Yeah, Toby. I did. But there's something else I need to talk to you about. There are some strange   
things going on."

"Tell me about it. Ryan and my new podmate are both seeing ghosts. I guess the new guy is  
just crazy, but Ryan...?"

"Well count me in."

Toby looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"I'm seeing ghosts too."

Toby looked at him startled, as if waiting for the cue to start laughing.

"Don't you?" Chris asked, while watching Bryce Tibbetts snuggle closer to Toby, licking over his  
ear.

"I'm going to eat your honey," Mark Carachi said, "nice and slow."

"Chris, there isn't anything here," Toby said with a certain edge of desperation to his voice.

"Yes, there is," Chris said with equal desperation. "Don't come here anymore. Maybe they'll  
leave you alone once you're no longer around me." He pushed Toby away from the bars of his  
cell.

"Chris. Chris, you're not making sense. What are you seeing?"

"Judgment."

* * *

Schillinger woke up at night and walked over to the sink. When he turned the water on, rats came  
jumping out of the sink, becoming one with the darkness in the corners of the cell.

For a second, he felt a chill over his skin. This was ridiculous. Being scared of rats. Just because  
this place was a dumpster filled with crazies, didn't mean there was really something going on.

Suddenly he realized there was a certain smell in the air, a smell he remembered without being  
able to place it. Something from long ago.

The he remembered. It was what his sons had smelled like when they'd been babies. He went  
back to bed and didn't dare open his eyes until the lights went back on.

* * *

Part 4: Day 4

* * *

Shit, Chris had lost his mind. Had it already started in Cedar Junction? Or had it been his time   
alone on death row?

He was the crazy, but Toby could think of nothing to do to help him. Except talk to Sister Pete.

 

On the way to her office, Toby walked past that strange detective again. Somehow, things felt  
ready to disintegrate. So much had happened in the past few days. Everything was tinged in  
unreality. And now having that living and breathing image of Chris walking past him...

Their eyes came to rest on each other. The others eyes somehow searching his, as if he knew  
of their mutual connection.

* * *

"What's happening here, Tim?" Gloria asked alarmed.

"Nothing's happening, Gloria."

"For days I've been getting patients who've heard or seen strange things or have been involved  
in some kind of strange accident. Stranger than the usual accidents here. Soon there won't be any   
room left in the psych ward."

"What do you suggest we do? Start praying?"

"I wouldn't joke about it," Gloria answered seriously, kissing her cross, before she walked  
away.

* * *

"Sister," Chris acknowledged her cheerfully.

"Chris." Her voice sounded worried, her gaze was softer than he'd ever seen it in the  
last two years. He knew that look, though it had never before been directed at him: pity.

"I can guess who sent you," his smile becoming more of a sneer. "He delegated that  
problem off his hands pretty damn fast."

"He thinks I can help you," She said, trying to make him see the good in it.

"Do you think you can help me?" he scoffed.

"If you'll let me."

She was so careful with him, so gentle, like he'd break any second, or turn into a  
raving lunatic. She wanted him to open up. He could do that for her.

"First, there was Beecher's son," he said jovially. "He was looking for his hand. And then some  
other ghosts of the past showed up."

"Are you making fun of me, Christopher?" she demanded. 

Chris smile turned bitter. "Oh sister, I don't think there's anything funny about Beecher's   
dead son."

"Then why are you treating all this as a joke?"

"Because I think you're funny, Sister. Not believing any of this, when it is clearly happening,  
still clinging to your notebook and all your psychological evaluations. But don't worry. I  
don't think anythings going to happen to you. Not you, when there's still enough scum like me  
that deserves punishment."

"Oh, Chris." Her eyes soften again, "I'll get you into the psych ward as soon as possible."

"Don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. From what I've heard, they're already fully booked.  
Give Beecher a kiss from me."

He winked after her, when she turned to leave. His smile still in place, when he can already hear the   
little boy singing, just around the corner.

* * *

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you again."

"Why not?"

"Dunno. Thought you'd be scared of the dangerous lunatic," Chris answered shrugging, "But as you see,   
I'm still not off to the loony bin."

"Chris, I wouldn't abandon you because of something like that. It's... the kind of stress you're  
under right now."

Chris backed away from his touch, pursing his lips in annoyance.

"I'm not imagining things."

"Chris... " Toby rested his forehead against the bars, trying to reason with him.

"No! You're the crazy one. Don't forget that, Beecher."

"Fuck you. I'm trying to help you."

"It would help if you would believe me! Don't you think you owe me that much?"

Ouch. Toby backed off as if from a blow. Nice, just bring up all the shit from the past.

"Will you ever get over that?" Toby asked, his voice resonating more impatience than he would  
have liked.

"Oh, you mean like you got over it back then, huh? It's not like I made it very hard for you. I  
don't remember asking you to endanger your life on my every whim." Chris crossed his arms, posture   
radiating hostility.

"Yeah, right. You just completely dropped out of my life when I needed you the most!"

Well, at least they could talk about it now, Toby thought bitterly. There was a hell of a lot of things   
left simmering inside them since everything had gone crash, boom, bang and Chris had been carted off to   
Cedar Junction. This, wasn't what he had in mind when he'd wished they could talk about it.

"I don't care what the fuck you believe," Chris said between gritted teeth. "Just be the fuck  
careful! You think I'm crazy? Fine. But watch your fucking back! Can you do that much for me?"

* * *

"You weren't willing to cooperate with us the last time," Elliot started. "We're only trying to help you."

"Bad timing. You better worry about yourself."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Elliot asked aggressively.

"It sure is, but not by me."

 

"This is getting nowhere," Elliot exclaimed exasperated, rubbing his forehead. They stood in the next room and  
watched the subject of their interrogation through the window.

"I'll get us some new coffee," Olivia said.

Elliot went back into the interrogation room. The guy seemed looney alright, but the guy who'd  
done it was a fiend who needed to be put away even deeper than he already was. The same went for  
the warden. People like him who supposedly stood on the right side of the law, but looked away  
whenever it seemed fit, made Elliot want to either throw up or throw a punch. So he would  
make do with the shitty coffee and the grumpy COs a little longer until they had something to  
show for it.

"Alright, try to help us out here. Maybe we could even have you transferred to another prison."

"I'll tell you one last time. Take your pretty partner and get out of here. You don't want to be here  
when it starts, trust me."

The guy seemed to be pretty urgent. Sincere even. That's the thing with the crazies, you can't  
tell when they're lying, because they think it's true.

 

All the COs seemed to be working currently, but no one had bothered to make some new  
coffee before going on duty. Olivia started to search the cupboards for the coffee.

"It's in the top drawer."

Olivia jerked around. The blond CO gave her a reassuring smile.

"I'm sorry, did I startle you?"

"No, it's alright. Thanks." She'd finally found the coffee.

"Is it any better at the police department?" he asked.

"I can't say it is," Olivia laughed. They bustled around in silence for a while, she making coffee,  
he getting out cups and looking for the milk in the fridge.

"What are you trying to achieve, detective?"

"Huh?"

"You're investigation."

She gave him a blank look.

"Don't you think those animals should settle it among themselves?"

She frowned. "We're doing our job here. Even inside a prison, the law needs to be upheld."

"Some laws aren't worth being called laws," the CO said, the good-natured attitude gone in an instant.

"Can I have your badge number, officer?" Olivia asked sternly.

 

"What took you so long?" Elliot asked when she came back. "I almost fell asleep.  
Not much talk with that one. Not anything worth repeating, that is."

"I had a talk with one of the COs. Let's just say he made himself suspicious. Maybe he was an  
accessory to the rape."

* * *

"We need to tell him the truth!"

"No, Sammy," Dean answered rubbing his temples. "That's exactly what we shouldn't do."

"I'm going to talk to him now," Sam answered with resolve.

"No, Sam! We-- " He lifted a hand but dropped it only seconds later. "Nevermind, do whatever  
you feel like."

He watched Sam making his way over to McManus' office, his stride full of purpose. Then he  
dumped himself on the nearest chair, recruiting the resident inmates for a game of cards.

 

"I need to see McManus. It's urgent!"

"Yeah, sure. It always is," the hack in front the office stopped him.

"No really! It's a matter of life and death," Sam exclaimed, his mixture of sincerity and desperation  
working it's charm as always.

"Alright, boy, I'll see what I can do."

Half a minute later he was led into McManus' office.

"Can we keep this private?" Sam asked, making his best I'm innocent and need help face.

"Would you leave us, officer?" McManus complied to his wish. "So what is it you wanted to talk  
about?"

"I know this might be hard to believe... But everyone inside this prison is in danger."

McManus' eyebrows rose a level higher, but he didn't interrupt.

"There's something going on here. It's not... natural." Sam bit his lip unsure how to continue,

"Have you gotten a lot of reports about incidents that are... unusual... more unusual than usual?"

Oh Christ, you'd never know that he'd actually been captain of the rhetoric club in college.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," McManus said.

"I think you do," Sam said with a scrutinizing gaze. "You're neither stupid nor blind. Whatever  
you want to call it, you know there's something wrong."

"We're in prison, Padalecki, there's been something wrong here from the beginning."

"Do you want people dying in here? Every single one?"

"If you have information about an attack or another riot, you have to tell me this instant!"

"I will," Sam held his stare, looking back fiercely. "There are malevolent ghosts in here and they  
will eventually kill every living soul unless we find their remains and burn them. This  
whole place needs to be evacuated."

"This is it. Officer! Take him away."

Sam held their eye contact the whole way out of the door. They both knew that McManus  
had been lying all the way.

* * *

"I'm sorry. I tried, Tobias."

"I know you did, Sister."

"Can I leave you here for a while?"

He smirked. It had become their private joke since Whittlesey had complained about the dangers  
of him being left alone inside the office.

He could barely concentrate on typing down the files today. A martini would be like salvation.

He heard the dripping first, before he smelled it. Did Sister Pete hide her private  
stash here? He couldn't imagine it. Curiously he got up and followed the smell to a far corner  
of the room where there was a cupboard. He opened it. There was an opened  
bottle of alcohol, toppled over, the contents dripping on the floor. Oh, Sister. Toby shook his  
head, looking for the cap of the bottle.

"You drank."

He whipped around.

"You drank again, after everything that happened."

Of course he hadn't recognized the voice. He'd never heard it before.

"Even though what happened to me, you drank again. You're pathetic and weak. You thought you had a   
tough life. At least you have a life!"

Toby felt a kind of dread he hadn't felt since he'd seen her the last time, though, of course, he  
saw her every night now, didn't he?

"I'm sorry." If words had ever felt shallow and meaningless, they did now.

"Yeah! You're sorry alright," her voice shrill, becoming more of a shriek, her face contorting.  
She shouldn't look like this. Whenever he'd pictured talking to her, he'd had the silly, silly hope  
of her being in a better place. He had hoped, wished, prayed for her to have found  
peace. In his head, when he wasn't just watching her get smashed on the windshield of his car, she  
was always happy, bright, somehow pristine. Not this fiend-like seething creature that  
looked ready to scratch his eyes out.

On the other hand, he should probably be more worried about the state of his mind. Was he really  
considering that this was really happening? When there were so much more plausible reasons  
for seeing her: drugs mixed in his food - it wasn't like stuff like that had never happened before;  
brain tumor - his family wasn't prone to them, but who knows? Or of course, there was the good old crazy.  
But whatever it was, God knew he deserved whatever his mind had cooked up for him. And  
maybe... maybe Hoyt and Ryan and Sam and... Chris had been right. Maybe it really was  
judgment.

"Whatever you have to say to me, you've got every right. And I'm not deserving of any forgiveness  
much less yours. But if it helps you even a little, I've suffered my share here. I'm not dead, but   
I've lost my... the people that died because of me...I'd rather given my life then have to outlive   
them."

"But that's not enough," she answered in a clear voice, granting him the first smile since their  
conversation started. He could have done without it. It was a smile like nails scratching on a  
chalkboard. He felt like tar and pitch were running down his body, sticky and burning.

"What would be enough?" he asked exhausted, willing to do whatever she asked if only she stopped   
looking at her with that face.

A smile lit up her face, she opened her mouth to answer him, but then Said was suddenly in the  
room and he suddenly knew that he was most definitely hallucinating.

"Don't listen to her, my brother! She's not real!"

Toby laughed harshly, "I figured that much."

"No! You don't understand! She's not who she claims to be! Don't let her trick you!"

And then he was gone. And she was gone, too. Sister Pete returned to the room, it could have  
only been a few minutes.

"I think I have to go to the infirmary, I'm not feeling too well."

 

After a few hours of lying in bed, trying to blank out reality he returned to Em City. Rebadow  
approached him.

"Tobias, I'm very sorry."

"What for?"

"Haven't you heard?"

Toby gave an impatient shake of his head.

"Said was murdered. Just this morning by Arif they say, though he denies everything. But their  
pod looked like Said fought back hard."

Toby felt his mouth twitching. Opening to deny it, because it was ridiculous. It was. Both the idea of  
Said being dead, as well as the murderer.

"Why would Arif do that?"

"It wasn't Arif," Rebadow told him confidentially.

"Who was it then?" he asked stupefied.

"The ghosts," Rebadow answered as if it was as simple as that.  
And probably it was.

 

"Seems he's getting there," Dino commented, leaning beside Ryan on the railing.

"Shut up."

* * *

"Mr. McManus?" Olivia said as she approached him.

"Just call me Tim," he smiled at her, already flirting again.

"Alright, Tim, could you tell me the name of the officer with the badge number 983-O-11?"

"Let me check in the computer for a moment.... The number's no longer active. The officer is  
deceased. Karl Metzger. He was killed here about two years ago. Has this any connection to the   
case?"

Olivia paused for a moment, frowning. "I don't know yet," she answered slowly.

"Tim? Tim you need to see this," Murphy's voice sounded from the walky-talky on McManus'  
desk.

"Where are you?" McManus asked.

"Cafeteria."

"Excuse me," he shot Olivia an apologetic smile before he went off.

"Well, that one's got the hots for you," Elliot said with the condescending amusement he treated  
any guy Olivia ever got together with. He always treated them like he knew from the start they were   
only temporary. If Olivia had to give a name to Elliot's attitude it would probably be 'possessive   
aggressive'.

 

When he arrived, he saw a big hole in one of the walls.

"Remember when we called in the people from pest control because of the rats?" Mineo gestured to the   
wall. "They took part of the wall down."

McManus took a peak inside then took a step back the next second. Inside was Timmy Kirk. It looked   
like he'd been suffocated.

"Strangest shit, I've ever seen," Mineo continued. "It looks like he walled himself in  
from inside. He got all the tools with him. Why the fuck would you do something like that?"

* * *

"Hey Chris," Toby rolled the mail cart through the door. Chris was leaning against the bars  
his posture and look casual as ever, if it hadn't been for his unshaven face and the lack of sleep  
showing in his eyes, "You look the worse for wear."

Toby tried a weak smile. Chris only regarded him with understanding in his eyes. He could tell  
by Toby's face that there wouldn't be any more doubts about what he'd seen.

"So do you, babe," Chris returned, his hand already reaching out through the bars, fingers  
burying themselves in Toby's hair.

"Who did you see?" Toby asked.

"Some."

* * *

Part 5: Lockdown

* * *

"What do you mean 'locked'?" Glynn asked.

"'Locked' in the sense of 'not open', 'no one getting in or out'. That kind of 'locked'." Mineo  
answered.

Only minutes after having checked the front entrance himself, Glynn learned that the phones  
too were dead, as well as the cellphones.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do now? Send a fucking carrier pigeon?"

"You are not being helpful, Tim," Sister Pete reprimanded him.

"Most importantly, we have to stop this news from getting through to the inmates. We don't  
need a mass panic. Turn off the TV's in all Units."

"And how do you plan to stop the panic among the CO's?"

 

"What is the meaning of this?" Olivia demanded.

"We aren't sure ourselves. But it seems you have to stay here for the time being," McManus  
explained.

"What is this? Some kind of emergency procedure?"

"Well, in a kind..." McManus answered wearily.

"You're just as much in the dark as we are," she said, the truth dawning upon Olivia.

 

"Alright, the good news is the locking system of the cells is still working and so far the lights  
didn't give out on us," Glynn started his speech to the assembled CO's. "The bad news is we're  
stuck here. Until further notice, you will continue your shifts as usual and fill in for those CO's  
of the later shifts. You will maintain order and calm between the inmates. And no one, I repeat,  
no one is to inform them in any way about the current circumstances. For anyone who might  
try to do so anyway, I want to remind you that this could easily turn into another riot. So  
I want all of you to be extra cautious."

* * *

"While we're here anyway, we might as well continue our work." Olivia told Glynn.

"I'll have Peter Schibetta brought to one of the interrogation rooms." He agreed, the two Detectives   
being his slightest problem right now.

 

"Is this what you were talking about? Is this some kind of riot?" Elliot's whole body  
language was charged with ready to break out violence.

"Calm down, Elliot, we don't know that."

"Yes, that's what I was talking about. You should take a seat and make yourself  
comfortable, because none of us is going anywhere in the near future," Peter said.

"Are you behind this?"

"Sure, all the way from psych ward I have both disabled the locking systems and organized  
another riot."

"Elliot, I'm sure it's nothing. We won't be stuck here for long."

"There's been something strange going on since we got here, and I want to know what!"

"I can tell you."

"Pray, do so," Elliot answered, his patience far beyond it's limits.

"Ghosts. Ghosts and lots of ghosts."

Peter started laughing at Elliot's expression, unable to help himself.

"You think us trying to help you is funny?" Elliot asked angrily, obviously not taking him seriously,  
but Peter could tell from the expression of the lady cop that she was. He turned towards her.

"It's not a matter of whether or not you're going to believe me. It's only a matter of how much  
time you're going to waste before you do."

"Karl Metzger." Olivia wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish. She was just  
looking for some kind of reaction from the guy.

"Why don't you tell your partner, detective?" was all he answered. Time to up the ante if they  
wanted to get anywhere.

"Tell him what?" she answered unfazed. "It's you I'm asking."

"I have nothing to say about Karl Metzger, nothing that you don't already know, that is. But I  
think you might have something to share."

* * *

The lockdown was only the start of the constantly growing bad feeling that every  
single inhabitant of Oz seemed to be having these days.

"Sam, I think you're right." Toby slumped down on the lower bunk.

"You do?" A hopeful smile went over his face.

"What are we going to do now?"

"First, we're going to keep those ghosts out of our pod."

"You're aware your pouring salt on the floor?"

"Trust me, I'm a professional."

"You actually do this for a living?"

"I wouldn't call it a living, but yeah."

"Is that what you meant with stuff happening that was too difficult?"

"Basically."

"How did you and your brother get into this?"

"You could say it's the family business," Sam laughed harshly.

Toby looked at him questioningly.

"Do you want the long or the short story?"

"The short?"

"A demon killed our mom. Our dad raised us to be demon hunters. The same demon killed my  
fiancé. I found out that I had demon powers. Dean nearly died. Dad sacrificed himself. I   
died. Dean sacrificed himself. We killed the demon that killed mom. Dean went to hell. I   
started dating a demon. Dean was brought back from hell. We were trying to prevent the   
apocalypse. My girlfriend turned out to be an evil lying bitch. I accidentally started the   
apocalypse. My brother started dating the angel that had gotten him out of hell. We prevented   
the apocalypse. I went to hell temporarily. My brother got dumped. I got out of hell. And here   
we are."

"Okay......"

"I know it sounds weird in the beginning, but trust me," Sam paused, grabbing  
another pack of salt, "after some time it'll still sound weird," he finished with a grin.

* * *

"It's been three days. The CO's are tired, they want to go home."

"We all want to go home. There's nothing we can do."

"How does this work?! Not even the phones are working! What kind of a technical breakdown  
is this?"

* * *

"What the fuck! How long are they going to keep us caged up in here."

"Ryaan, I'm bored!"

"Shut the fuck up, Cyril! Shit, Dino just played with you. Can't you be by yourself for even a  
minute? Take a nap or something."

"Did you always boss him around like that, or only since he can't fight back?"

"Shut up, Ortolani, you haven't been particularly helpful either. Weren't you supposed to help  
us with stopping all this?"

"Do you really think a lockdown is what I meant with something terrible going to happen?" Dino  
gave him one of those looks that made him feel downright stupid, which was saying something,  
considering that making others feel stupid was usually his prerogative.

* * *

"Look, gramps. I'm not really feeling you either. But considering that we've been stuck here for  
three days now and you're starting to stink, let's not make this any worse," Dean said.

"You really think you're going to leave this place alive, aren't you?"

"I intend to."

"What are you doing with all that salt?" Schillinger asked.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later."

"You're serious about that ghost bullshit?"

"Don't tell me you haven't realized that something strange has been going on here for some  
time now. Haven't any of your little Nazi pals seen something out of the ordinary lately?  
Did someone get killed in a strange way? Or maybe you... Ahh, now I see. You've already seen  
something, haven't you?"

Schillinger made a face like he was going to spit out something very unpleasant any minute.  
Dean assumed it was his 'your perfectly right!' face.

"What are we going to do about it," Schillinger asked grudgingly.

"We find that motherfucker and we kill it. I've done this before. It's my job. Find it's bones. Burn  
it. Or send it right back to hell."

* * *

"It's started."

"I thought so. What do the others say?"

"Wait."

"For what? Inevitable death?" Peter scoffed.

The other laughed.

"What the fuck, Peter?" Miguel mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Miguel."

* * *

"There's been an alarm! Someone just opened some of the pod doors," Mineo yelled.

"Then close them again for Christ's sake," Glynn ordered.

"It didn't go over the control panel. I have no control over this."

"Which pods?"

"Two in Emerald City, one in Unit B and one in psych ward."

"What prisoners?" McManus asked.

"Emerald City: Ryan O'Reily and Cyril O'Reily, Tobias Beecher and Samuel Padalecki. Unit B:  
Vernon Schillinger and Dean Ackles. And in psych ward: Peter Schibetta and Miguel Alvarez."

"Should we guard them in their cells as long as the locking doesn't work?" Mineo asked.

"What's this bullshit about 'the locking not working'? We all know this is not a technical problem!  
Sure we can keep them in their cells, but what stops whatever this is from opening all the doors  
the next time? I suggest that as long as we don't have a fucking idea, we try to appease it," McManus let out exasperated.

"Okay, take them to the cafeteria, we need to talk," Glynn conceded.

 

"This situation is unusual for all of us, but though you were granted the right to be outside your  
pods, that doesn't mean you can roam here freely," Glynn warned.

"I think we're past sweet talk. You don't have a fucking clue what's going on. We do," Dean  
interrupted him.

"Oh, and what would that be, son?" Glynn asked condescendingly.

"This place is haunted."

"Yeah, right."

"As a matter of fact, he is right," Peter said nonchalantly. "They've been here all the time, but  
now something old has joined them. Something I don't know, something none of the others  
do know."

"You can see them?" Dean asked surprised. "Who else, besides me and Sam?"

Miguel raised his hand, so did Schillinger and Toby. Ryan raised both his and Cyril's hands.  
Slowly, Father Mukada and McManus raised their hands too.

"Are you serious?" Elliot asked. "Seeing what? Ghosts?"

"Actually, I've seen one too," Olivia confessed. Elliot just stared at her wide eyed.

"Liv, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Chris can see them, too," Toby interrupted their exchange.

"No way, Beecher," McManus answered. "I'm not letting out more than necessary."

* * *

"I'm getting you out of here as soon as possible," Toby said urgently, pressing Chris' hand  
through the bar of his cell."

"You better look after your own hide," Chris answered, gritting his teeth. Whatever was after  
him he could deal with it. But this thing clearly had an interest in Toby, otherwise the choice of  
appearance didn't make sense.

"Time's up, Beecher!"

"Fuck you, Lopresti!"

"Look who's mouthing up," Lopresti assessed with a sneer, after the initial surprise that those   
words didn't come from Keller.

"What're you do? Shoot me? There seems to be going around an awful case of ghosts.

"Come on, Toby. Just leave it," The last thing Chris needed was Toby in solitary or in the hole  
at this point.

* * *

"The situation is getting out of control," Elliot stopped McManus on the floor.

"Was it ever in control, Detective?"

"You know what I mean. The banging of against the cell bars is getting louder with every   
passing day! And why the fuck hasn't anyone from outside tried to get in to us? They must   
have realized something's wrong in here, or does this happen regularly?!"

"No, it doesn't. Neither did the noise escape me. And I assume if they were able to, someone  
would have already made contact with us. I guess, I don't have to tell you that that's not a   
good sign."

"Shit," Elliot muttered as if to himself, "We should have never come here. And," He pointed at  
McManus, "I don't believe that ghost bullshit for even a second."

McManus crossed his arms, he hadn't yet decided whether to be amused or pissed off by the   
Chris Keller copy, "Then by all means, explain to me what is happening here."

"It's probably some sort of gas emissions in here that cause hallucinations."

"Yeah," McManus answered utterly unconvinced, "probably."

Elliot just scowled at him.

"Maybe you should broaden your mind, detective."

* * *

"Whatever is happening here. I'm not leaving him out there all alone on death row."

"I can't let him out, Beecher," McManus repeated what had become his standard line today,  
"Considering what's going on here, he's probably saver there than he is here."

"Bullshit."

"I have to think about the safety of my COs first."

"You have Schillinger running around here, how that going with your safety?!"

"Not by choice."

 

Toby saw keys dangling down in front of him. After a while Dino Ortolani materialized around  
them.

"Okay, let's get your boyfriend."

* * *

Part 6: Just Stay Alive, Even If You're Dead

* * *

"Dammit, Leo, how are we going to explain this to the other inmates. We can't hide from them   
what's going on here! Anytime now they could start a riot and take the whole prison."

"What do you suggest then, Tim?! Enlighten me, because I sure as hell haven't been trained  
for situations like this!"

"We should let them all out."

Everyone else in the room mirrored Leo's expression, faces going slack in complete disbelief,  
turning towards him at exactly the same time. It reminded Tim of a horror movie he'd once  
seen.

"Come on guys, they know it, they know it all! Most of them have already seen ghosts or been  
attacked by them. They're as scared shitless as we are," Tim spread his arms in a helpless  
gesture, appealing to his colleagues to see reason.

"So, you're suggesting we let them all out," Glynn said as if it had been intended to be a joke.

"We can deny them gym privileges and deliver the food to their cells, but sooner or later they'll   
have to shower again," Officer DelaGuerrta conceded.

* * *

"Why are you still here?! You got what you wanted, everyone knows about the ghosts now!"

"I have to be in some place," Dino shrugged.

"Alright let me rephrase it: What do you want from me?"

"What do you think I want?"

* * *

"So you're haunted by the ghost of Adebisi?" Toby asked incredulous.

"Yeah, don't ask me why," Peter answered, "He's been in psych ward since his death. He spent  
a whole month in the empty cell beside me, not knowing that he's dead. Wondered why no one  
got him out of it. When they put someone in his cell it finally dawned on him that something   
was wrong. First time I saw him, he was at art therapy. You should have seen the screaming  
nurses, when the scissors lifted seemingly on their own. Me being the only one there who could  
see him, I was stuck with him. I told him to get the hell down to Em City to haunt whoever he  
liked. But he wouldn't leave. And then came the others."

"What others?" Toby asked seriously. He hadn't missed the change in Peter's voice, from slightly  
annoyed to something darker, something around the place fear sat.

"Ghosts. Lots of them. Not friendly at all. They appeared three months ago. I was still the only  
one that could see them, but they would talk to the others. Whisper in their ears relentlessly.  
Making them see things. We had three suicides since then. The doctors don't know why, but   
I've seen them. They just wanted to escape. That was they first time if started to be glad that  
Adebisi was around. He kept them away from me."

"Why were they so evil? Were they possessed or something?" Father Mukada asked.

Peter laughed at that, "No Father, just the regular scum. Souls of the prisoners, died at Oz over  
the years. And trust me there are a lot."

"Why now?" Toby asked, "What changed?"

"I have no idea," Peter answered truthfully.

"They've always been there," Dino told them, "the question is, why are they searching contact   
now? The new ones like me, linger for quite some time. But some of those around here, are a  
few hundred years old. Whatever has died on this ground comes back now."

* * *

"So now that we've all gathered here, let's get started. We've wasted enough time," Dino said,  
cracking his knuckles. 

Ryan was surprised he could do stuff like that as a ghost. Dino looked around among the more or   
less distrusting faces of who were supposed to become his allies.

"Let me introduce you to the rest of the crew," Dino spread his arms like a circus director  
announcing the main attraction of the evening.

In front of them several shapes appeared out of thin air. In front of them stood Reverend Cloutier,  
Jia Kenmin, Jeffereson Keane and Richie Hanlon.

"That are all the ghosts that are on our side?" Murphy asked.

"Including Adebisi," Dino answered as if that was somehow impressive, "There are a few more  
who are busy at the moment."

"Where is Said?" Toby asked.

"He was with us, but now he's gone," Dino stated bitterly.

"Why are you even helping us?" Gloria asked, looking at them with suspicion.

"I've seen what it did to Shirley. I have no need to be even deader than I already am," Jia stated.

"If you hadn't wasted so much time being bloody-minded oafs, there would have been more of  
us," Dino added harshly.

"What do you mean by that," Toby asked.

"The ghost destroys them, eats them, whatever you want to call it. They are just gone, that's  
all we know."

"I have a request," Jefferson Keane started, "We've already lost Said, I'm not going to loose my  
brother. Let him out McManus."

"That is out of the question."

"Oh, come on, McManus," Toby rolled his eyes in exasperation, "It's not like he's such a big   
threat to everyone. Look at Schillinger," He pointed, "He's a threat."

"That's very flattering, Beecher."

"If I comply with everyone's requests we'll have a madhouse in here!"

"Wow, that's going to be such a big change," Elliot stated drily.

"Is no one even considering to ask my opinion on this matter, given that I'm still the warden?"  
Glynn asked, by now not even expecting an answer any longer.

"Of course, warden," Olivia said without much conviction, patting his shoulder pacifyingly.

"My brother," Keane was by now standing almost threateningly with his arms crossed.

"Or what?" McManus didn't like getting threatened and like getting ultimata even less.

"Let him out already."

To McManus' surprise it was Dean who had entered the conversation.

"What do you think this is? Family Reunion?!" McManus asked, pissed off.

"Whatever. Just do it." Dean answered.

"Alright, what the hell. I'll probably won't live to suffer the consequences of this, anyway."

* * *

"Something dark is coming," Dean said gravely.

"No kidding," Chris answered, "Was the Aryan Brotherhood pun intended?"

"It is the apocalypse," Cloutier exclaimed, "We are all going to meet our judgment!"

"No, it's not the apocalypse," Dean deflated him, "But that's a common mistake among your   
lot. It's just another demon-bastard trying to mess with us."

"We're not sure it's a demon, Dean," Sam interrupted him.

"Yeah, right. Demon, witch, ghost, shapeshifter, whatever."

"It's definitely not a shapeshifter," Sam corrected again.

"Well, thanks for the input, Sherlock," Dean answered slightly pissed-off.

"It's not just one... There are so many of them," Peter said.

"He's right," Dino agreed gravely, "There are more of us. More than before. Ones we don't   
know. And they are not benevolent, if you know what I mean. Even less benevolent than the   
rest of us."

"Why does stuff like this always have to happen in my prison?" McManus groaned.

"This is still my prison," Glynn reminded him.

"Yeah, just keep telling yourself," Chris laughed harshly.

* * *

"Hey man, what the fuck is wrong here?! Let us the fuck out!"

The banging against the cell bars or walls was getting louder with every passing day.

"We can't keep them in there infinitesimally. They have to shower otherwise diseases could   
break out in here," Gloria stated, fed up with Glynn's indisputable stance towards the apparent  
problem.

"Listen Gloria, I sure as hell won't endanger the safety of my CO's, myself and you, in favor of  
the health of these lowlifes in here."

"You start to sound like Schillinger," Gloria said, her lips pursed in disgust.

"So we have a two class system now," McManus backed her up, "Some people are worth less  
than others?"

"Well, that's the way it is," Glynn yelled exasperated. He composed himself again and then   
addressed them again in a calm but determined voice, "I won't discuss this any longer. My mind  
is made up."

* * *

"So what are you guys? Something like male Buffys," Miguel asked.

"You watch 'Buffy'" Elliot asked, one eyebrow raised, "My daughters watch 'Buffy'."

Miguel only shrugged, "'Buffy's a classic."

He got nodding agreement from surprisingly Father Mukada and Jia Kenmin.

"No, we're not like Buffy," Dean stated, "Well, maybe Sam is. He's got the superpowers," He  
looked at Sam cocking his head, "But I guess technically you would be Dawn."

"So who's Castiel?" Sam shot back with visible glee, "Spike?"

"Ha ha."

"So what's the plan? Do we just sit it out or are we going to battle something?"

"If we knew what exactly does this, we could exorcise it, but until then, the goal is to stay alive  
and do some serious research. The computers are down. Do you have a library in here?" Dean  
asked.

"I doubt that they have the local occult history in the prison library," Sam remarked.

"Oh, you would be surprised, what we have here," Mukada laughed.

"We should ask Rebadow. If there's something here that could be useful, he'll know," Toby said,  
turning towards McManus, "I doubt you consider Rebadow too much of a security issue to let  
him out."

"Alright, then I'll give you the rundown on the safety measures," Dean started, "And when I tell  
you something, it's not a suggestion. You'll do it and you'll do it exactly as I said it when I say it.  
If you don't, people die, most likely you included. Understood?!"

Sam stepped beside him, taking the word after murmuring "You sound like Dad," To Dean.

"No one goes anywhere alone. You will always have salt a shotgun with salt and a walky-talky  
with you. If possible also iron of some sort."

"There should be enough iron stuff in the kitchen," Adebisi supplied.

"We can't give the inmates weapons," Glynn interjected, "The only people with guns in every   
team are going to be COs.

"Leo, do you really think now is the time for that?" Gloria asked exasperated, "I maybe don't  
believe that all those guys here are innocent little lambs, but I believe that for the time being  
they are the less imminent threat. So give them the damned guns!"

"Any more opinions? Suggestions? Criticism?" Dean asked jovially, broadcasting quite clearly  
that any of the before listed would be ignored.

"We'll have teams of four. Three humans, one ghost. Is there anyone who doesn't know how to  
handle a gun?... Thought so."

 

"Gloria, you're coming with us," Ryan announced, extending a possessive hand towards her.

"I see no reason why I should go with you, O'Reily," Gloria crossed her arms.

"Absolutely, Gloria, you should stay here in the infirmary with Sister Peter. We can stop the   
ghosts from getting in with that salt, right? I'll stay and look after them," McManus stated with  
resolution.

"On second thought, I think I'll rather go with the O'Reily's," Gloria answered sourly.

"What's the matter with her?" McManus asked genuinely puzzled.

"The 21st century, Tim," Sister Pete explained, with only a slight mocking quality to her voice,   
"Guess what, we women wield guns ourselves these days."

"How about we stay here and you go," Dino proposed.

* * *

Except Ryan, Cyril, Gloria and Dino there were currently five inmates in the infirmary, who were   
cuffed to their beds for safety reasons. (Which sure increased the safety for the others in the room,  
but would mean dead certainly death for those in cuffs, if there was some kind of emergency.  
With emergency ranging from a fire in the infirmary to a hellgate opening in the middle of Em   
City.)  
After some necessary chores like spreading salt on the doorsteps, they stood around without  
purpose. The awkward silence only broken by the happy bustling of Cyril with plastic hospital  
supplies Gloria had given him to play with. The inmates who were here with them were mostly  
asleep (anyone even remotely in the condition to, had been discharged).

"So you two are good again?" Gloria asked, gesturing vaguely between Ryan and Dino.

"You should be able to tell, Doctor Nathan," Dino smirked into her direction, "I'm only here because  
of you."

"So am I, obviously," Ryan put in disgruntled.

"By the way, Doc , I killed that guy back then, because he asked me to."

"Why would he do that?"

"Are you kidding me? Why would he want to go on living? He wanted to die. So did I. And just   
like his, my wish was graciously answered. Isn't that right, Ryan?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really? In times like this you're still scared they might pin it on you?"

"Why bringing it up if it was so welcome? It's not like it's heavy on my conscience."

"Oh, you should feel a little bad about it, at least," Dino answered with a fake pout.

"Oh come one! You had it coming miles away!"

"True," Dino conceded, "Nevertheless, it hurt. There I thought we were friends."

"Have you gone crazy?! In what universe were we ever something even remotely identifying  
as friends?!"

"Don't get all worked up, O'Reily," Dino patted him on the shoulder, in a gesture that seemed so  
accustomed and easygoing it made his hairs stand on end.

"It looks to me like you came because of each other," Gloria muttered, turning her attention  
back to the patients, now that she was seemingly no longer needed in the conversation of the   
two.

* * *

Meanwhile a group consisting of Dean, Schillinger, Mineo and Reverend Cloutier was patroling  
Unit B.

"Hey, Schillinger, get us out of here, man!"

"You can't leave us here to rot!"

The yells of the Aryans followed them since they'd entered the cell block. The other inmates  
had given up there yelling after it's fruitlessness during the first days and had taken to throwing  
expendable items at them.  
They heard a strange grunting noise combined with screams from one of the cells at the end   
of the block. At first they'd thought it was another attempted rape, nothing unusual in Unit B,   
but then they saw the other body lying on the floor. With the stomach missing.

"Oh God! What is this?!"

The other victim was still struggling against his assaulter that had by now seemingly buried  
it's teeth in his shoulder.

"What the hell! That's Robson," Schillinger exclaimed, making no attempt to get closer to the   
scene.

"We need to get in there," Dean turned towards Mineo in expectation.

"I'm not so sure, going in there is such a good idea now," Mineo stalled.

"Alright, listen," Dean was slowly losing his patience, "Either you unlock this door now, or I'll  
knock you out and unlock the door myself."

Reluctantly Mineo unlocked the pod door. Dean immediately send a load of stonesalt into the  
guys back.

"Did you just shoot him?" Cloutier yelled horrified.

"It's just salt, it won't kill him," Dean went over to get the by now unconscious attacker of the   
victim, "It'll just hurt like a bitch," He added with glee.

"Hey, You alright?" He asked the victim waving his fingers in front of his face, "What happened  
here?"

"I have no idea," Robson was holding his bleeding shoulder, "What the fuck! Was it is with   
people trying to bite off pieces of me?! What is he? Like a zombie? Am I going to catch something  
from him?!"

"Nah, he's just possessed. Relax," He turned back to Mineo, "We need to take him to the infirmary."

"Alright now, let's stop a moment and reflect this. What the fuck happened here?" Schillinger  
demanded to know.

"Okay," Dean turned towards the assembled crowd, "Remember when you were little and your  
parents would tell you, that you only had to close your eyes and the evil things would be gone?  
Well, that was a lie."

"We'll thanks, teach. That of course explains everything in an abundance," Schillinger replied  
sourly.

"That guy was possessed. I don't know whether with a resident ghost, or that thing that's  
pulling the strings here. My brother can try to exorcise him later."

"Maybe I could help," Cloutier offered.

"Thanks, man. But you better leave it to the professionals."

* * *

Elliot had, for obvious reasons, volunteered to be the compulsory member of the law-enforcement  
in the team, assigned to the library, consisting of Beecher, Keller, Sister Peter Marie, Sam and   
Jia Kenmin. He wasn't exactly thrilled to leave Olivia behind, but he knew quite well, that she  
could fend for her own and there was no other threat than the inmates. Whatever the other  
crazies in here said.

Chris felt Elliot's eyes resting on him from the moment they'd entered the library. The other   
wouldn't address him, but prowl around flipping books, without real conviction, throwing meant  
to be concealed glances at him. Chris was curious himself, but keeping him hanging in the air  
was just too much fun. Besides, he had more important concerns these days. Finally, finally,  
after so many months, of thinking he would go insane, he and Toby were reunited again. So it  
was hard for him to have eyes for anything except him. With Toby multitasking was impossible.  
So for now his game was circling around Toby who was busy making his lawyer-face over a heap  
of books, sharing occasional low voiced words with Sam. Seemingly unconsciously touching   
him. Brushing past him. A leg brushing past a thigh. Fingers wandering over the nape of his neck.  
He even daringly pulled Toby into a kiss. Kissing Toby was right now (if not always) combining  
his most favorite activities. Kissing Toby (obviously) having an embarrassed Toby scold him and  
(that was a new one) making Elliot feel awkward.  
If the good detective wasn't going to talk to him anytime soon, he maybe really would have to  
have a word with him.

* * *

"Hey, Doctor. That favor I asked you about," Elliot approached Gloria hesitatingly.

"I ran a check with both of your blood samples and it's certain, you two are brothers," Gloria  
explained.

"Fuck."

"Seriously, El?" Olivia dragged him to the side, whispering furiously in his ear.

"We've been here, sitting around idly long enough, don't you think?"

* * *

"Maybe you should just call Cas," Sam proposed.

"Cas can go and fuck himself. He thinks he can spread his wings and sauter off. Fine! I won't  
come running after him," Dean answered pissed-off.

"Fine," Same answered resigned and a little dejected.

 

"What was this all about?" Toby, who'd just walked by, asked once Dean had stormed off.

"Dean... He has trouble with his boyfriend... He's the angel, I told you about," Sam shrugged as   
if this would explain everything.

* * *

"Yo, hmm... Keller... " Elliot awkwardly got in line behind Chris in the cafeteria, "How's it... .What's  
... What's for lunch today?"

Chris raised an eyebrow in a way that was almost compassionate. If scoffing (though good-naturedly)  
could be compassionate.

"Chicken Nuggets like everyday. Unless of course Groves has taken possession of on of  
us again. Then I can't guarantee there won't be human body parts in it."

Elliot looked slightly sick, before he tackled the situation in his usual headlong way.

"We're brothers," He burst out, before adding considerably hushed, "Genetically."

"You guys from the SVU are pretty quick, aren't you? I don't remember giving my permission  
for taking a DNA sample," Chris retorted, handling the situation in his usual way.

 

Meanwhile Olivia had taken a seat beside Toby, who'd been already waiting at one of the tables.

"You think they'll eventually get to the point of actually conversing?"

* * *

The lights went out. Everyone had gone back to their pods. Even the hacks were by now sleeping  
in empty pods because it was preferable to sleeping on the floor of the recreation room. Some  
were also sleeping in empty beds in the infirmary.  
It was strange, they were still sleeping in the same pod, though there were no locks any longer.  
At least on their cells. The usual bustling covered in darkness gave a false sense of security. The  
routine pulling them in the warm embrace of habit. Even those that were still confined calmed  
down in the night hours.  
Toby was by now sharing pod with Chris again, naturally. As well as the Winchester brothers had  
moved to a shared pod.  
The night was giving them all a much needed reprieve to the life that had changed so much  
despite the still kept up routine. Walking around in a Unit that was no longer able to confine   
them, while they were prisoners of an entirely new nature. Eating in the cafeteria among the   
people that had once guarded them and were now comrades in the same fight for survival.   
Even Schillinger had stepped over the boundaries of their mutual enmity, in favor of living to   
see another day.   
He looked down at the sleeping Chris, who was lying in the bunk beside him. These days no  
one of the hacks gave a damn about such things, they could as well have been making out in   
broad daylight in the cafeteria.  
After having not been able to see each other for so long, they were now reunited in the wake  
of disaster. Or more precisely inmidst of it. But they were together.  
And they took every good moment they could get.  
His guilt wouldn't vanish, but giving up Chris would never be an option again.

* * *

Thick black hair between his fingers. Fierce eyes meeting his. And he was allowed to touch. He  
was finally allowed to touch. No longer, hate and accusation in those eyes.

"Maybe you've never been in love then." His own words to McManus woke him. Panting and  
aroused. 

"What is it, O'Reily?" Mocking eyes met his in the dark.

"Nightmares."

* * *

"The emergency lockdown in the Oswald State Correctional Facility continues. The cause for the lockdown  
that has cut off both inmates and staff from the outside, remains unknown. Later today Governor  
Devlin is going to make a statement to the ongoing measures to reestablish communication   
with the prison staff. Assumptions, on whether the lockdown was caused by another riot or  
the leaking of some hazardous chemical, are still running wild."

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?" Glynn demanded.

"I talked to the other staff members and we decided to let the prisoners out in small groups, so  
they can take a shower," McManus stated nonchalantly.

"You're going to loose your job over this," Glynn said gravely.

"Well shit, Leo, that's my biggest nightmare right now," McManus retorted sardonically.

* * *

"The prisoners that were just let out to shower, refused to return to their cells. They attacked  
the COs and barricaded themselves in the kitchen. Among them are several members of the  
Aryans Brotherhood."

"Who the fuck let them out together?!"

"What do you mean together?! This is maximum security prison! Everyone in here is dangerous.  
We have to let out some of them."

"It's bad enough that we already have those guys with us," Elliot vaguely pointed in the direction  
of the prisoners on the team, "But when more of them get out we'll loose the upper hand."

"Oh shut up, Chris 2," Miguel interrupted him, "We're all in the same boat here. And I think we  
all know that we've lost the upper hand to the ghost a long time ago."

"I have an idea, that's probably a little unconventional," Toby started, "We could talk to the   
prisoners. To those who seem reasonable. Explain the situation to them and see if they'll work  
together with us. For example the Muslims probably would. And the ghost could open all the  
remaining cells every moment now, for all we know. So we're on the brink of disaster anyway.  
We might as well be proactive."

"I support that," Sam chimed in immediately.

"Of course you would," Dean sighed, "Why don't we summon some friendly demons too, while we're at  
it. They'd doubtless be thrilled to join our cause."

"Oh shut up," Sam huffed, indignated.

"Ruby," Was all Dean said to that.

"Who's Ruby?" Chris asked curiously.

Sam shot Dean a poisonous look that hopefully conveyed his intent to maim and kill to prevent  
this story from being told.

Dean started to open his mouth anyway, unfazed.

"Dean is the bottom," Sam blurted out in the desperation of the moment.

Stunned eyes darted first to him and then to Dean. Dean mirrored their motions, staring first  
at Sam and then at the others. Then his gaze went back to Sam, his mouth working, like he was   
trying form words.

The others where following the interaction now with proportionally much more sensationalism  
than disbelief.

"How do you even know?" Dean asked with what could only be described as a squeal.

"Oh, know a lot more than that," Sam said with an evil laugh that made the others believe Dean's   
story about his little brother nearly having lead an army from hell, "So, the Ruby-topic better  
stays a subject never broached." It occurred to Sam that, as much fun as he had, they had really bigger   
concerns, right now . But, well, you need some fun, especially at dire times.

"As much as I'd love to hear more intimate details of your love-lives, could we maybe turn our   
attention back to the problem in our kitchen?" McManus interrupted them.

"It sounds so nice and uncomplicated when you phrase it like that," Mineo said with a wistful sigh.

"Has someone even considered my proposition?" Toby asked.

"Do you really think they will even listen to you?" Chris asked, looking as far away from convinced as  
possible, "Said is dead. And I don't remember them ever having much love for you."

"Yeah, those self-righteous fucks will be more trouble than they're worth," Ryan agreed.

"Fine," McManus groaned, "Anyone else ideas? Suggestions? Complaints? Praise? Anything?"

"I, at this point, would like to remind everybody that I was against it from the beginning," Glynn  
inserted smugly.

"Alright, constructive criticism, anybody?"

"We could negotiate," Olivia proposed, "We could send someone in to... "

"That's definitely not going to be you," Elliot interrupted her.  
She already wanted to retort something, when McManus backed him up.

"Yeah, actually I agree, it's not such a good idea to send a woman in there to negotiate."

"They don't have weapons right?" Ryan asked, "So why don't you law-abiding citizens go in there and  
shoot them. »Serve and protect« isn't that somehow your credo?"

"We can't just shoot them."

"If I may remind you of the last time people were shot here, under such circumstances and the class  
action suit that followed."

"Oh, come on! No one will miss those Aryan fucks."

Shocked glances darted towards Gloria.

"What? You all thought it," Then she apologetically turned towards Father Mukada, Sister Pete and  
Reverend Cloutier, "Apart from you of course." 

"How about we get those who can't fight, out of the danger zone first. And we have to stop this from  
spreading."

"He's right," McManus agreed, "If worse comes to worst, we have to shut this part of the prison down."

"I'll do it," Glynn speedily volunteered, "I take the ladies to my office. From there I can lock the   
necessary parts down if need be."

 

Glynn went off with Gloria, Sister Peter Marie, Father Mukada, Cyril and Billie Keane.

"I could talk to them," Cloutier offered, "It's not like there's any danger for my life. And Schillinger  
will listen to me."

Ten minutes later he was back.

"They say no."

"We figured that much," Dean said, "Kinda reminds me of the beginning of 'Gladiator'" He contemplated  
again, "Only without the headless guy on a horse."

"Well, at least we have them cornered in the kitchen."

* * *

"Okay, maybe it's time to reevaluate my decision," McManus admitted, while he, Ryan and   
Dino took cover behind the counter crawling over to the pantry, away from the Aryans that had   
now cornered them in the kitchen. Well, Dino didn't really take cover, but commented the   
whole scene from atop the counter. Floating through the netting wire door after they'd locked   
it after them.

"Don't sweat it, McManus," Dino told him cheerfully, "After all, how where you supposed to   
know that they would stir up trouble if you let them out. It's not like you have years of experience  
in dealing with prisoners in maximum security."

 

"What the fuck?!" Elliot pounded against the closed gate in front of them.

"Shit! Glynn must have locked down the Units," Chris exclaimed.

"Didn't we agree that this was supposed to be some last resort?"

"So we're stuck here with the escaped prisoners?"

"Looks like it."

"Weren't there supposed to be guards?" Olivia asked.

"They're outside too."

"Wow, I really like the way you all look out for each other here."

"Let's head to the gym. Maybe we can block the door or something," Toby suggested.

 

They indeed managed to do that. But that had diffused their situation only temporary.

"Were that gunshots I just heard?"

"Optimistic interpretation: They guards are back inside. Pessimistic interpretation: The Aryans  
just broke down the weapons arsenal."

"How strong exactly is that door?"

"Optimistic or pessimistic interpretation?"

Suddenly there was a loud bang and the sound of crumbling concrete. The air was covered   
with smoke. Then an even louder rumbling started and parts of the ceiling came raining down.

Olivia felt a something hard hitting her in the back and fell to the floor, rolling away from the  
ongoing collapse. Awesome, nothing better than people playing with explosives who obviously  
have no idea what they're doing. She must have been out for a moment. Disoriented she looked  
around herself. A shape was moving towards her. She reached for the gun.  
Then she could see his face.

"Elliot," Olivia, grabbed for the hand helping her to shaking legs. He just shook his head.  
"Keller."

The smoke had settled enough for her to see that Keller was the only person still with her. The  
others were either buried or on the other side of the gym, behind the newly acquired room divider.  
She tried to hoist some of the stone fragments away.

"Don't waist your breath. I've tried that myself. We'd probably have a better chance if we tried  
to build our own bomb. We're stuck here for the time being," Chris sat back down on the floor.  
Olivia reluctantly let go of the stone she'd just been hoisting, throwing a worried glance over to  
the middle of the hall which was now blocked by a wall of crumbled stone.

"You're pretty relaxed considering your boyfriend could be lying dead under those stones"  
And his brother actually too.

"They're both okay. I just talked to Elliot," He meaningful knocked a combination of short-longs  
against the stone wall.

"You know Morse code?"

"Sure."

"Don't tell me you were a boyscout?" Olivia said, giving him her first smile since they'd met.

"Where do you think I learned lock-picking and fighting dirty?" Chris returned with a grin.

"Actually, shouldn't you and Elliot be able to communicate through your mythical twin-connection?"

Chris snorted, "Then Toby and I might as well be communicating by the power of our undying  
love. Speaking of undying love, what's about yours and Elliot's?"

"I... What?! There's no... "

"Bad experience with work-affairs, huh? Don't worry your secret is safe with me."

"We're not... We're just partners."

"Are you feeling insecure about identifying yourself as part of a couple?"

"Could you stop psychoanalyzing me?!"

 

Meanwhile Elliot and Toby had come to the same conclusion.

"Shit, we're stuck."

"Looks like it."

Awkward pause.

"So... You're dating my brother."

Toby, who'd still been debating the likelihood of him really moving anything, or getting buried   
underneath a cascade of stones and concrete if he continued picking up stones, twirled around  
at that.  
Then he debated between "That was... blunt," "Hello? Privacy?" "Are we going to have that talk  
here?" Or "Duh!".

"I assume it's not that much of a shock, given that you didn't even know you had a brother a few   
weeks ago."

Elliot only nodded gravely, looking very much as if in midst of an interrogation.

"I read your file."

Wow, he really made a great cop. Or an investigative journalist. 

"Awesome. The protection of privacy in here is just swell."

"That's some pretty tough shit that happened to you in here."

"I'm sure you've seen worse."

"I'm sorry about your son."

Toby just nodded in acknowledgement, "Do you have children?"

"Five."

"Wow. I'd never pictured Chris to be the family type."

"Neither would I have pictured myself to be the serial-killer type," Elliot retorted with a lopsided  
grin, that reminded Toby of Chris, loosing a little of the tension he'd had since they'd started   
this conversation, "Is it true that he broke your arms and legs?"

"Just my arms," Toby answered not quite believing what he'd just said, 'just' being the operative   
word, "Why is it always the first thing people ask about us?"

He had meant it rhetorically, nevertheless Elliot made an effort to answer.

"Maybe because that's a pretty unusual start for a relationship."

"You mean aside from the completely everyday scenario of meeting your boyfriend in maximum  
security prison?"

"Actually I could swear one of my daughters recently read a Manga that was pretty much such  
a story. I saw it lying around in her room. Pretty graphic."

Awkward. 

Elliot realized he'd moved past the point where he should have stopped mumbling solely for   
the sake of conversation.

"So." Toby tried guide the conversation to safer (relatively) waters, "You read my file.   
Anything interesting?"

 

Meanwhile a troop consisting of Mineo, Lopresti, the Winchesters and the five SORT members  
who had been at Oz at the time of the »incident« had managed to subdue the rioting Aryans.  
The fugitives hiding in the kitchen, came out of the pantry.

"Wow, amazing, Ryan," Dino commented, "You hid the whole time in here and waited for the  
others to safe you. I would have fought with them."

"And that, my dear Dino, is the reason I am still alive and you're dead," Ryan pointed out.

 

"Hey," Toby shouted, "Come over here. Take a look at this!"

"What's the matter," Olivia asked concerned. Toby only pointed at the grumbled wall parts   
and stones in front of him.

"It looks like something's behind this."

They started to carefully roll away stones and bricks.

"Let's hope this whole thing doesn't collapse on us."

"Let's just think of it as Jenga."

 

"Where are Keller, Beecher and the two cops," Peter asked once they were all assembled  
together again.

"I thought they were with you," McManus answered.

"Don't you guys have walky-talkys or other hack-stuff to communicate," Miguel suggested.

"I'll ask the other ghosts if they know where they are."

It took but two minutes until they had news.

"Yo, they're in the gym."

McManus jumped at the voice.

"Hey, McManus," Kenny Wangler was standing across of him. Looking like he'd just come from  
work-detail in the kitchen.

"Kenny?"

"Dammit, I told you a thousand times, call me Bricks!"

"Yeah, I remember, 'that Kenny Wangler shit is dead' right," Ryan inserted not really helpfully.

"Kenny, so you're on our side," McManus exclaimed, seeming really happy that one of his   
social projects seemed to have worked out after all.

"Yo, I'm where the party is."

"How are we supposed to get them out of there? It could take days until we got all that trash  
away." Ryan turned the conversation back to the still to-be-rescued team members.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't there supposed to be a hole where all that shit came   
down," Peter contributed.

 

"Hey, Chris, there's a rope coming down."

"Took, them long enough."

 

"Where's Toby?"

"Still down there."

"Why the fuck is he still down there?!"

Ryan only shrugged.

"Beecher and the lady-cop found something. The ghostbusters have gone down there too to  
check it."

* * *

"Wow, that's some seriously dark shit," Dean exclaimed.

"Dark shit, like dark helpful? Or like dark bad," Toby asked.

"Dark like pitch-black magic."

"Can you actually read this, or are you just showing off?"

"It comes with the job. The real question is: How did this ancient books full of shit from   
necromancy to Incubi get in the wall of your gym?"

"We had a construction crew here a while ago. And from time to time someone gets walled in."

* * *

"Are you aware, that in maybe three months, I could have actually made parole," Toby said   
with a little laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, while he leaned against the pod wall, staring into   
the darkness of Em City at night.

"Well, at least we get to spend a little time together, this way," Chris answered smiling, putting  
his arms around Toby from behind, "And sooner or later you're going to get out of here," He  
wasn't sure though, if he'd wanted Toby to get out of here. Who was he kidding? He was well  
aware that he didn't want to Toby to get out of here, at least not without him.

* * *

"Hey, where's Glynn?"

"Dunno, haven't seen him a while."

"Maybe we should search... "

"Okay, let's split up, but no one on his own, we don't need someone else lost."

 

Sam, Dean and Miguel ended up in one team, checking Ad Seg together. They hadn't really  
talked to each other before. But as soon as they were alone, Miguel became talkative. At first  
Dean was glad for the distraction, from the tedious task at hand. He figured Glynn had just  
wandered off by himself to again make some sort of point about him being the head of this  
shit. Some point through the conversation he wasn't so sure whether he might have wanted  
to be teamed up with Schillinger instead.

"So, demons really exist?"

"Yeah."

"And witches?"

"Yep."

"And vampires?"

"Uh-huh."

"And werewolves?"

"Hm-Hm."

"And angels too, right?"

"Yes."

"And you can have sex with them?"

"Ohmygod."

"So... ?"

"Hm?"

"Do vampires really sparkle in the sun?"

"....... Yes! Yes, indeed, they do! Absolutely! And werewolves are hot sex-crazed hunks  
too and run around without shirts all day. And guess what, I'm currently in a love triangle  
with a vampire and a werewolf."

"I thought you were with that angel."

"Someone shoot me please."

"You're doing great," Sam padded his shoulder, with the compassionate smile of a survivor   
who'd just thrown his friends to the wolves.  
That was the moment they heard shouting.

"Oh god! Shit," Schillinger came running around a corner, "Fuck! One of the ghosts killed   
Glynn!"

 

Soon they were all circled around Glynn's grumbled figure.

"There's nothing I can do for him," Gloria shook her head regretfully, after having checked  
his pulse.

"He must have been possessed too."

"Can you imagine, having someone inside your head, making you kill yourself?"

"Let's hope it ended soon."

"I doubt it. Stomach wound. Takes long to bleed out," Dino assessed.

"Thanks for making us all feel better," Mineo huffed at him.  
They all stared down at the corpse, the mood darkening around them. 

"It's not like any of us had much love for him, but we probably should still get his body off the   
floor," Peter broke the silence.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glynn was heading back to his office. They weren't supposed to go by themselves, but this was  
still his prison. He didn't need an escort to go to his fucking office. Anyway he'd rather use his  
private toilet in the office, than the one in the recreation room.

The lights flickered slightly in the floor.

"Hello," Glynn felt ridiculous. Was he really expecting an answer? The whole ghost thing still  
felt surreal. Like one big joke that continued for days.

"Is there someone?... Shit. Schillinger, don't sneak around like that. What are you doing here."

"I was just a little worried. We're not supposed to dally around like this all by yourself... "

"Yeah, well, I've got my shotgun with salt with me. So I guess I can deal with the ghosts."

"Yeah, sure, comes in handy. There's only one problem," Schillinger said mentioning towards  
the shotgun.

"What do you mean," Glynn asked frowning.

"Didn't the Winchesters tell you? Here, let me show you," Schillinger closed the distance   
between them. Glynn didn't realize it until he felt the wet pain in the stomach.

"You see," Schillinger said pulling out the kitchen knife, "salt's good with ghosts, doesn't help   
you much against humans though."

He patronizingly patted Glynn's cheek while he sank to the floor. Then he crouched beside him   
and put the knife in Glynn's hands guiding them towards his torso, plunging the knife in again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Nice work," Peter said to Schillinger in a low voice.

"What are you talking about," Schillinger asked in a derisive voice.

"That first wound was too low. The two cops have seen it too. There are only three people  
around here who probably hated Glynn enough to want him dead. Miguel doesn't have what  
it takes to kill him and I know it wasn't me."

"Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"Not at all. As I said not much point. Even the cops realized that now's not the time to play   
Sherlock. And as I'd be one of the main suspects and have not much to proof my innocence  
I'd be a fool to bring it up. It's nice isn't it? A world where no rules apply," Peter winked at   
Schillinger and walked off, still chuckling to himself.

"Fucking whackjob," Schillinger muttered to himself.

* * *

Sam and Peter were sitting in the library going through the books they'd found. Peter maybe   
couldn't read the glyphs but compared to the others he was the closest to a professional they'd  
got. After all he was pretty good with concoctions and charms.

Translating that stuff wasn't as easy as first thought. A slight mistake with a word ending could   
topple the whole meaning, which could proof disastrous if they ever were going to use any  
of this. Dean was off to the kitchen to make an inventory of the supplies that could be useful.   
Hopefully he was doing that, though Sam suspected that he was helping himself to chocolate bars  
and remaining chicken nuggets left over from lunch. Sam wasn't sure how he wasn't sick of tired of   
them after eating more or less nothing else since they'd gotten here. Dean, though, said that you  
could never eat enough chicken nuggets. He expected he'd have to pick him up later.

"Hey Sammy," Dean walked in, with a huge grin on his face.

"Only my brother is allowed to call me that," Sam retorted coldly.

"Really, you guys, I just can't fool you, can I," Dean laughed with Jessica's voice, slowly turning  
into their mom.

"You probably shouldn't have showed yourself to me, you know," Sam told the ghost/demon,  
eyes set with determination, "You should know, that I was once supposed to lead an army from  
hell."

"I know of you Sam Winchester. I may have slept for a long time, but I heard that much. Now  
come, take your chance with me," His mother spread her arms.  
Peter had followed the whole conversation, first confused and then alarmed, making eye contact  
with Sam unsure whether to get help or just stick by.  
Sam started calling upon his powers and really the edges of her seemed to blurr. At the same  
time the memories of it seemed to seep through. He could see hundreds of people, eyes wide  
with fear, feeling their one last moment, all having the same picture in front of them in the end.  
He couldn't get the other souls away to get to it. It was like there's a cocoon around it.  
Sam started bleeding from the nose, "I can't exorcise it," He choked out, "It... It's... " He started  
coughing.

"Nice try, boy. Gimme more."

Sam's features set stubbornly and started again. Until Dean shook him out of his concentration.  
He hadn't even noticed him coming back, nor was he sure whether Peter had gone to fetch him  
or he'd come back on his own.

"You're stopping right here, before you start bleeding out of your ears," Dean yelled angrily.

"Listen to your big brother, Sammy," It advised him gleefully, before vanishing.

"It's tied to the ground," Peter murmured, his eyes unfocused and dilated. Sam only now realized  
that he was still sitting at his spot on the table. "It's taken the ghost's that have vanished and crafted   
a net from them, which ties it to the ground, for they, who died here are tied to the place."

"How do you know that?" Dean demanded, taken of guard.

"I can... see it," Peter returned haltingly, not quite believing his own words. Peter had so far shown a special   
sensitivity to supernatural vibes and everything, seeing more than most of the others, but this was new.

"Is it possible that he got that whole medium/visions thing going like you," Dean asked.

"I don't know, if he's been sensitive to this kind of stuff before, the psych-meds could have made his  
mind more easily accessible to this kind of things."

* * *

Part 7: When We Were Young

* * *

»I still see us when we three were still shining. Illuminated by the things we wanted to become.  
Now two of us have lost the ability to become anything. And one of us is about to become   
something again.«

* * *

"Why are you smiling?" Dean asked.

"Because whatever is going to happen here, it's not my fault this time," Sam answered.

* * *

"Hello, Vern."

In front of him stood a young man, around 20, with longish, wavy brown hair. He smiled at him.

"What the fuck are you?" Schillinger asked, tense. He had enough of all this shit. He had enough  
of fucking ghosts. He had enough of Peter Schibetta having strange premonitions. He had enough of   
their awkward community of fate.

The ghost just shook his head, in gentle reproach.

"Who are you?" Schillinger rephrased exasperated.

"I'm Gary Beecher," The ghost smiled brightly.

"No, you're not," Schillinger answered annoyed.

"Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh," The ghost waved his finger in mocking disappointment, "I AM Gary Beecher.  
I am what would have been, if you'd given me a chance to live," The ghost put his hand back   
down and suddenly, flesh started to part from flesh and the hand dropped to the floor in a   
puddle of blood. The ghost's eyes followed the motions of the hand and then went up again, to  
meet Schillinger's with an expression of sorrow, "Why wouldn't you let me live?"

During all this, Schillinger couldn't take his eyes of the bloody stump. 

"Why, Vern?" And again it was the voice of the child, the body having changed back in   
accordance to it.

"What do you want?" He asked with a raspy voice, his mouth having went dry.

"I'm here to deliver judgment," The child answered serenely. When it walked towards him, it  
had both of his hands again, the formerly severed hand holding a butcher knife. He realized   
what was going to happen, yet he couldn't move. All he could think of was, if Peter had known  
that this would happen. The little hand that grabbed his wrist was of a clammy coldness that   
made him shudder. It smelled stale, of sickness and death.

"A hand for a hand, Vern," The child smiled at Schillinger. When the blade came down, he   
screamed.

* * *

"O'Reily! We need to talk," Dino dragged him into the supply room.

"What's the matter, Ortolani?" Ryan asked unnerved, when Dino grabbed his neck and pulled  
him into a kiss that lasted longer than it probably should have.

"What are you doing?" Ryan asked after he'd torn himself free, being to equal parts   
dumbfounded, angry and aroused.

"You should rather ask me what else I'm going to do," Dino chuckled, again closing the space  
between them, "I'm gonna do what you've wanted since the first time it came to blows between  
us all those years ago," He whispered.

~Shit. How did he know?~ was the last coherent thought Ryan had, before Dino pulled him into   
oblivion.

* * *

»The thing most people didn't know about us was, that me and Ryan knew Dino for quite some  
time. We went all the way back to the times when Ryan and Dino were just sixteen and new in  
the gang business. Headstrong and looking for trouble.  
I think we first saw him in a bar in our territory one night, looking for trouble. Ryan felt   
attracted to him from the moment he set eyes on him. Of course he'd rather lost a leg than   
admit that, but the real ridiculousness was that the attraction was mutual.«

* * *

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He and Cyril had just arrived at the bar that night. There was already some commotion going  
on. One of the Italians had come over here to start shit with some of their boys, who'd hit   
on his girlfriend, or something. Ryan was sure curious to see the guy, who'd been stupid enough  
to walk straight into their territory. Well, it wasn't strictly speaking his territory. But he'd move  
up in the ranks soon enough. He had moves.

 

Then he saw him. Standing amidst about five of the Irish. At first he saw only his back and a  
shock of black hair, while he hit one of the guys over the head with an empty bottle. But then  
he turned around to kick another one in the guts. Shit! This guy was no older than him.   
During the whole fight there was something like a fierce smile on his face. He seemed to be really   
enjoying himself. He won the fight without seeming to have exerted himself very much. When  
his eyes flashed over the room, looking if there was someone else who was going to attack him,  
his eyes came to rest on him. He shot him a challenging grin, showing his teeth.  
He was so fucking beautiful. And for a second Ryan thought, he'd never wanted someone  
that bad before. Then he turned away, downing his drink quickly, his cheeks burning, hoping   
that no one had somehow seen what he'd been thinking.

 

Later Ryan turned towards one his boys, "Who the fuck was that?"

"That's Dino Ortolani. He belongs to Nino Schibetta."

~~~~~~~~~~~

"We have to work with the fucking Micks?" Dino asked, incredulously. He shot Ryan a contemptuous  
glance, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

"Just step back, Dino-boy, and let the adults handle the business," Ryan told him.

Dino lunged at him with a growl, getting him right in the face, the impact, knocking them both  
of their feet, landing them on top of each other. 

While Ryan placed a few blows of his own, but all he could think about was, that this wouldn't be a  
very good moment to get a hard-on.

~~~~~~~~~~~

So shit, Dino thought, maybe he was gay, but he was still an Italian man. There was no way he  
would let anyone know it. He would marry some girl and have children, he wished for that, truly,  
a family. He'd never had any doubt that he'd have it. Those two things had nothing to do with  
each other. And damn, there was a big difference, between hooking up with some random guys  
in a bar where nobody knew him and having a major crush on a guy from another gang.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's really a shame. I liked Cyril," Dino said, looking dismissively at Ryan, "I heard it was your   
fault, is that true?" The last sentence he said with a vile gleam in his eyes.

"Fuck you, Ortolani."

"Not so eloquent today, huh?" He moved closer to Ryan, "Who's going to look after you, now  
that you're big bad baby brother is vegetable?"

~~~~~~~~~~~

"You coming to Em City?" Dino asked short of gnarling.

"Yeah, how about that? You and me, lasagna boy, side by side every single day for the rest of   
our lives. Unless, of course, I get paroled in twelve," Ryan shot back with one of his self-assured  
grins that seemed to mock the rest of the world.

"You come to Em City, you're dead."

"I guess that means I can't use you as a reference, huh?" Ryan retorted. 

Dino grabbed him and pressed his head into the toilet. After he'd finally let go of Ryan, he left him   
there choking, gasping for air and practically fled the room, sinking to the floor not far away, trying   
to calm his breath. He couldn't loose control like that. He couldn't always overcompensate like that.  
Shit, he couldn't be crammed up on such small space with O'Reily, for years to come. He'd thought he was   
loosing it before, but if things stayed like this, everything up till now, would look sane.

~~~~~~~~~

"So, I heard he burned quite nicely," Ryan drawled, "Wish I could have seen the photos," Deep  
down he was feeling ready to throw up. But self-denial had worked wonders for him before, as  
it would this time. He missed Cyril with a vengeance at times like this. He was the only person  
in the world to whom he'd ever even hinted something about his fucked up feelings towards  
Dino Ortolani. But now they both were dead, one more than the other, but dead to the world  
anyway. None of them couldn't do anything for him any longer. And he'd sure as hell done enough  
to them.   
He looked at the picture again, which Healy had given him, proud of his work. He forced himself  
to take another look at the burned beyond recognition carcass. At least Dino's wife didn't have  
to come in to identify the corpse.  
He looked at the picture, wondering if Dino had woken up, wondering if it had hurt, wondering  
if Dino had known that it had been him.  
He looked at the picture and remembered a sixteen year old boy, with black hair, a cocky grin   
and a headstrong temper. He remembered his brother telling him he shouldn't give a shit about  
what others might say. He remembered his brother telling him that he's a coward. He remembered  
a stupid infatuation, that hadn't been real. That just couldn't have been real. And he was hit by  
an unspeakable wave of regret.   
But only for a moment. It was too late. For many things. And what mustn't be real, just wouldn't  
be real.

He lit the photography and threw it into the toilet, watching Dino burn all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* * *

Ryan's way led him right to the infirmary. He needed to see Gloria. She would ground him. She was the  
one he wanted. She was it! Her!

"Gloria! Glo." He stopped in track. The infirmary was full of bustling people, running around Schillinger,  
who was... ?.?!!... missing a hand.

"What? What the fuck?!"

"He was attacked by the ghost," Toby pointed out leaning against the wall, solemnly watching Gloria patching  
Schillinger up. 

Now Ryan realized that most of the others weren't looking so much worried as much more curious. Ryan  
chortled lightly, receiving a most disapproving glance from Gloria. But hey, no love lost between them. It  
was no secret that he'd see Schillinger rather dead and preferably yesterday. Toby as well seemed to get   
the irony of the wound inflicted on Schillinger by the ghost.

So they just continued to stand there silently sharing their amusement.

"Hey Gloria, here's the stuff you wanted," Dino entered the infirmary followed by Dean, handing over  
some bandaging material to her. He didn't even spare Ryan a glance.

* * *

"We need to talk about it, Ortolani," Ryan had finally found balls enough to address the issue,  
when he was back in his cell at night, with Cyril already asleep and Dino's ghost floating beside  
him like usual.

"What exactly?" Dino asked slightly bored.

"Don't act like that. Dammit, you came onto me," Ryan hissed under his breath, careful not to  
wake Cyril.

"Did you have hallucinations? What else were you seeing?"

"That's just immature."

"Alright, unless we are talking about a figuratively sense of 'coming onto' that I don't understand,  
I can sincerely assure you that there's no possible set-up in which I would ever 'come onto' you,"   
Dino answered with a genuinely amused face, that turned grave after a few moments with the  
realization that Ryan was being serious.

"Unless you've taken non-existent drugs or severe brain-damage in the last hours, you actually  
mean this... " Dino voiced it like he'd just found out that Ryan was secretly murdering people,  
behind their backs, feeding upon their intestines (which given the place shouldn't have been   
such a surprise).

"Well duh," Ryan answered dryly, when a sudden realization hit him as well, "It wasn't you... "

Dino just shook his head.

"What in the fucking name of hell... " Ryan started to say.

"I think you have a pretty good idea of 'what in the fucking name of hell'" Then he paused, slowly   
catching what all this implied. His eyes widened and his mouth turned into a big O.

"Oh My God! You mean... ?... Oh. Ohhh. Fuck."

"Yeah, I know," Ryan continued, "How can we ever be sure again who we're talking to? How can I   
even be sure it's you I'm talking to right now?!"

"Yeah. No. Whatever, that's not the point," He stared at Ryan, "You mean you actually made out with   
fake-me?! Of your own free will?!"

Ryan cleared his throat, "K... kinda."

"I had no idea," He let out a laugh, "So... Did we get to third base?"

"I--d rather not talk about it," Ryan jumped up making his way to the pod door, "We really need to talk to   
the hunters."

 

"So you say it took Dino's shape and talked to you?"

"Exactly."

"Well, we knew it could take different shapes, but till now it never tried to delude us concerning  
it's identity," Sam stated.

"It did that one time with you," Peter pointed out.

"What does he mean," Dean asked alarmed.

"That time in the library it approached me in you're shape at first, but it was easy to see through,"   
Sam shrugged it off.

"Maybe to you guys, but what are we civilians supposed to do, to be sure again who we are talking to," Toby asked.

"It can take the shape of the ghosts because they are dead, so everyone alive should be safe ground," Dean said.

"Well, thanks man," Jia stated sourly.

"But the real question is, why does it want to confuse us about who it is now," Father Mukada  
wondered.

"That's true, what goal is it working towards," McManus agreed.

"That could be anything from world domination to opening a hell portal," Sam frowned.

"Has it occurred to anyone, that maybe it just wants to cause chaos and it actually finds it entertaining  
to confuse us," Olivia pointed out.

"Anyway, we can argue about the motive later," Dean brushed her off, "We still have the identity problem."

"They say that when an otherworldly creature looks into a mirror that hangs over a dead man's  
foot and a dead rabbit it has to let go of the mask it's taken on and reveal it's true nature,"   
Peter said.

"That's witchcraft," Dean exclaimed taken aback.

"So what?! My grandmother and my wife's grandmother are both witches."

"Well, we should have enough dead men in the morgue."

"Chris!"

"What?! It's not like they have anymore use for their feet."

"There's not going to be any cutting of feet, whatsoever. I'm drawing the line," McManus  
stopped any further discussion of ethics between Toby and Chris.

"Wow, you're already drawing the line here. The real fun hasn't even started," Dean scoffed,  
"But you're all really missing the point here. Where the hell are we supposed to find a rabbit in  
here?"

"Maybe Busmalis could dig a hole... What?! Don't tell me you haven't considered it," Sister Pete  
huffed.

"The ghost might just collapse the tunnel on top of him."

"So basically we still have the same problem," Sam summed up the conversation.

His words were met by a round of enthusiastic nods.

"What's with you, medium-boys, can't you check their ghost-vibes, or something," Ryan inclined  
his head in Sam's and Peter's direction.

"I'm not a medium. I have occasionally visions, and I can, usually, exorcise demons, but it's not  
like I got a supernatural ghost-screening function." Sam explained.

"What he said," Peter agreed.

"So basically, you can do crazy-kickass stuff, but not right now and here, where we would   
actually need it." Ryan summed up.

"What I'm trying to say..." Sam continued.

"You're useless," Ryan ended his sentence for him.

"Leave him alone, Ryan." Dean said.

"I don't know, it's a demon right? Wouldn't it be easiest to just, like sprinkle holy water at each other,"   
Peter suggested with a shrug. "It's the only thing that doesn't affect normal ghosts too. The Father can saint it."

His words were met with silence and faces bordering between contemplative and dumbfounded.

"Sounds reasonable," Sam agreed.

 

Well, it looked a little ridiculous, when wherever single persons met ghosts, they sprinkling water at them  
at them in greeting, but it seemed to work.

* * *

Cyril was already asleep. Ryan was lying in his bunk staring at the ceiling, though there wasn't  
much to see in the semi-darkness. Yet his eyes would ghost over to Dino, who was leaning   
against the wall across of the bunks. Leaning there casually, a posture Ryan had seen so often  
on him, a little cocky, a little bored.

"We were pretty stupid back then," Dino said suddenly, musingly, as if to himself.

"We were pretty young."

"Haven't gotten much wiser though," Dino observed, seemingly amused by the fact, "I can't  
even remember how it all started," He added in afterthought.

"Me neither," Ryan lied. He knew quite well how he'd been so paranoidly afraid someone would   
find out, interpreting every wrong look, every remark by Dino as an insult specifically designed   
to make everyone see what he truly was. At one point he'd just turned all that pent up tension   
and fear into a nonsensical grudge against Dino. And so an exchange of threats, insults and injuries   
had started, that had finally ended with the burned beyond recognition body of the object of his  
affection. Object of his affection? Oh god, that sounded so wrong.

"Actually back then, I thought you were kinda cute," Dino said, still leaning against the wall,   
completely at ease, "Though, Cyril would probably have been more of my type," He added   
head cocked in thought.

Ryan sat up with a start, hitting his head on the ceiling, trying to school his expression. He   
opened his mouth to say something, yet realized the same second that he had absolutely  
nothing to say that wouldn't completely embarrass him, eventually resulting in his closing his  
mouth again.

"Do you need some water?" Dino inquired helpfully.

"What?" Ryan asked confused.

"I'm not sure, I thought maybe you had a stroke, or something."

"Do you think that's funny?" Ryan asked indignated.

"No, strokes, sure as hell, aren't funny."

"You know exactly what I mean, spaghetti!"

Dino looked at him for a while, eyes narrowed, first angry, than pitying.

"Yes, I think it's funny how you get so worked up about this. Man, talk about self-denial. It's really  
a shame, come to think of it. We could have made so much better use of our time."

Ryan by now contemplated if just running out of the room was an option, though running away  
from a ghost would be rather futile. Maybe Dean could help him. Wasn't there something about  
stone salt?

"What's wrong, O'Reily? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm no fag!" Great. Great going. "You're no fag!" Alright, Ryan, just continue. I'm no fag, you're  
no fag, he, she, it's no fag. We're no fags. You're no fags. They're no fags.

"I'm not so sure about the second, and I'm starting to have doubts about the first."

"Why the fuck are you so nonchalantly about all this?! You're homophobia on two legs!"

"I'm dead. And you know what they say about those who act the straightest," Dino shrugged.  
First Ryan felt just dumbstruck, then the old reflex kicked in.

"Well, you're maybe a fag, but I'm not," He blaffed.

"Good night, Ryan," Was all Dino said before he was gone, leaving Ryan to stew in cowardice  
he'd never before considered as such, old fears he'd thought he had put behind himself and   
a certain feeling of hope he'd thought he'd forgotten years ago.

* * *

Again he was being ripped apart. Ghouls tearing at his limbs, claws digging into his flesh, their  
claws searing his skin, at least what was left of his skin. Ropes and chains tugging on his limbs,   
slowly ripping sinews and muscles apart. He could taste nothing but his blood any longer he  
could see nothing but the blood, that was running into his eyes, blurring his vision. Or maybe  
didn't he have eyes any longer? He seemed to be screaming all the time, but in fact he knew  
he'd stopped hours ago, days ago, or had it already been years ago.  
He had escaped from here! He'd gotten out. He was back in the world. They couldn't touch him  
any longer. Sam, Castiel they wouldn't let them get him again. They wouldn't!!  
The he saw the smile again through the bloody haze. The smile that had been his companion  
through all his time in hell. Upturned corners of a mouth. There needn't be anymore than this  
mouth, because it already signified all the rest of the face could have expressed. Utter and   
complete satisfaction, amusement, delight. Oh, great delight.  
Now, the mouth would propose to him, what he had, since he'd gotten here. Make all those   
wonderful promises, with those insignificant conditions. And Dean wanted to do it. He wanted  
to do anything the mouth wanted him to do. Deeds he'd never dreamed himself capable of,  
had now become, things he yearned for, things he would have begged for doing, if only...   
But as always he would deny, because that's what he did. That's what still defined him, when  
there was nothing to recognize about him any longer.  
He tried to laugh, but coughed up blood, when one of the creatures dug his claws into his   
stomach.  
The mouth brushed a kiss over his temple, licking some blood of his face, with a chuckle.

"Oh, Dean," The mouth quirked into fake wistfulness, "You didn't really think you had escaped?  
That an angel came down on his wings to take you from here? That you'd be important enough  
for anyone to bother coming down here and safe you? No. All you'll ever have is me."

The mouth had taken a fond expression again, "Still so stupid. Still so much bravado, so much   
hope. It's so much fun, Dean. You make me so happy."

The creatures had started feeding on him by now. It didn't matter. It would be over soon.   
And then it would start again. Over and over. Forever.

Dean woke up with a piercing scream, a howl of agony. Slamming away the hand that had   
gently touched his face. The voice of the person whose voice had ripped him from his dream.  
He took in his surrounding. It wasn't hell, but he didn't recognize it either. Glasswalls that didn't  
concealed the fact that it was a cell. Monotone gray of walls. Cold. Sterile. Prison. Caged. Trapped.   
No escape. No control. His breath started to catch in his throat.

"Dean! Dean, it's okay! It's me," Castiel said making a careful step in his direction. Not moving  
too fast, as if trying not to startle an animal. Dean had moved to the farest corner of his bunk.  
Glowering towards him, his face white as chalk, his breathing erratic, his fist clenching and   
unclenching around a knife.

"It's okay, Dean. It was a dream. A nightmare. You're not there. You'll never be there ever   
again. I'll protect you," Castiel said with that grave, sincere voice of his, slowly closing the   
space between them.

"Cas... " Dean choked out, allowing the other to approach further, letting him embrace him.  
Dean let out a labored sigh, letting his head sink against Castiel's chest.

"Oh, god. It's so good to have you here. I thought you'd never come back again."

"Always for you," He answered just like that. No games, no insecurities, just the absolute truth.

Dean leaned up and kissed him, long, like taking a breath after coming up from under the   
water. And it felt like it too. Like the moment when you realize that you're not going to die, that  
there's oxygen in your body again. Dean broke the kiss finally, looking Castiel in the eyes with  
longing.

"It would have been so good to really have you here," He said, before hitting Castiel in the face  
with an iron bar.

"How did you know?" The outraged voice of a child demanded to know.

"First: Do you really think you're the first ghost/impersonator I've ever dealt with? Second: Did  
you really think I wouldn't be able to recognize my own... boyfriend... ?... of sorts... "

The child giggled.

"So what happens now?" Dean asked, the iron bar poised in his hand.

"I think I'm going to watch you suffer a little longer. It's so entertaining and I don't have to do a  
thing."

* * *

Part 8: New Day

* * *

"I got a sense of deja-vu," Dino said when he walked in on Ryan leaning against the same toilet  
they'd last seen each other at with both parties alive.

"Going to try to drown me again?" Ryan asked with a wry smile.

Dino just shook his head leaning against the wall opposite of Ryan. They just stared at each other  
for a while. Ryan had always enjoyed looking at Dino, as long a one looked angry or disdainful  
enough, he could look as much as he wanted.

"Can I kiss you?" Ryan asked, softly.

Now it was Dino's time to loose his composure. Ryan just thought, that normally people reacted  
more enthusiastically to his offers, but normally he didn't ask.

Dino just kept staring at him. Ryan stared back. This time he wouldn't break the situation up   
with an insult or some witty remark turning it all into a joke. This time he wouldn't flee the situation.  
This time Dino would have to flee. Or they could both stay and sooner or later something would  
happen.

"Yeah."

They were both moving infinitesimally slow, as if not quite believing what they were doing. And  
now here, where over four years ago they'd had their last conversation, they were sharing their  
first kiss.

It would have been wrong to say that he'd forgotten everything around him and time stood still.  
Quite the opposite. Ryan was distinctly aware of everything around him. The ticking of the clock.  
The dirty tiles of the wall, where Dino's head was leaning against. The surreality of this whole,  
ugly dirty completely inappropriate place. And it was perfect. This place somewhere between  
nowhere and hell, where earthly and probably even heavenly rules ceased to apply, here they  
finally had managed to take that one single step, they'd always been too cowardly to take. It  
had taken one of them to die and everything around them to crash, but nevermind. They would  
probably all be dead soon enough, so there was no need to give any thought to a more than  
questionable future. There was only Dino. His lips. The cool of the tiles, where his hand touched  
the wall. The noise of the futilely ticking clock. Whether God or their fellow inmates condemned  
their actions had lost it's fright.  
When Ryan finally let go and stood there in front of Dino, so close that it normally would been  
the initiation of a brawl, he got a scary thought, remembering what he'd done because of Gloria.  
If he and Dino had ever been, what would he have been willing to do because of him?  
But they hadn't. And he clearly remembered the words of his brother when they'd been much  
younger and as always Cyril had seen far too much. »I don't want you to regret it one day.«  
If Cyril had still been with him, it wouldn't have ended like this. But Cyril hadn't been, and Ryan  
had lost his balance.

"I'm sorry I had you burned."

Dino's eyes fixed on his for a moment.

"I'm sorry I shot you," He said nonchalantly, "and tried to drown you," He added with a smirk.

"Alright, that's been the last time I'll try to apologize to you," Ryan retorted.

And Dino just started laughing. A free and relieved laugh. And Ryan knew why. He leaned closer  
to Dino, propping up both of his arms beside Dino's head on the wall stopping his gush of laughter  
with his mouth. Because now he could.

* * *

"You were the reason I had to go to hell," Dean snarled at him, "Do you even know what I went  
through there?! Do you have even a vague idea of the horrors there?! And all because you   
were too pathetically nice to kill a guy who wanted to kill you! You're useless Sam! Look at you,  
you've always been. The only thing you're really good at is causing the deaths of people you   
love. And calling to mind that little apocalypse episode, you're actually pretty good at causing  
random stranger's deaths too."

 

"You're not Dean. Why can you take his shape?"

The thing in front of him, as expected, turned it's shape anew. And Sam was looking into his  
own eyes.

"Sweetheart, you boys have been dead, remember?"

* * *

"Do you realize, that's probably the longest time we've ever been together," Toby mused,

"We've only always spent so little time with, I mean really »with« each other, we've probably  
hadn't had a chance until now to realize how annoying we find each other."

"I knew how annoying you are, right from the start," Chris quipped.

* * *

Sam and Toby had already been sitting all morning long, in the brother's pod. Studying countless  
books, the hum of constant hushed conversation omnipresent. Dean didn't really get why they  
had to talk that low, after all they weren't in the library, even if nobody cared these days,  
but it probably was a college thing. Maybe you sounded smarter like that. He decided to flee  
that environment of research and study.

"Hey, Chris, how about some gym time?"

 

"I'm going to the toilet," Sam excused himself, "Do you think you're alright here on your own, or  
do you wanna come," He asked awkwardly.

"No," Toby snorted amused, "I think I'll get along."

 

"Now look who we've got here."

Toby's head jerked up from the book he'd been reading.

"And all this," Metzger mentioned towards the empty library, "after your boyfriend so insistantly  
told you not to wander around here alone. Who knows what you might find," He grinned like a  
shark. He walked closer. Toby'd gotten up making sure there was a table between them at all  
times.

"You caught me by surprise," He waved his finger at Toby in an almost jovial gesture, "I hadn't  
thought you had it in you."

"Yeah, many make that mistake at first," Toby shot back between clenched teeth.

"Oh, still so cocky," He spread his arms, "What you're going to do now, Toby? How are going to  
fight a ghost?"

"I think I'll try this," Toby picked up a shotgun he'd been keeping under the table and put a load  
into Metzger.

* * *

"What is it between the two of you?" Gloria asked looking at him ponderingly, while rolling up  
some gauze bandages, "I know the way he looks at you. He used to look at me like that."

"What's between us, or more precisely hasn't been between us has been years ago. Decades.   
I don't think I can compete with you."

"Neither do I. A competition would require for me to have a chance at all," She laughed, maybe  
a little sadly.

* * *

Metzger reassembled shortly after Toby's shot had momentarily dissolved him into something  
like smoke.

"Nice trick, Beecher," He dissappeared only to show up at a different spot closer to Toby, "but  
how fast can you shoot?"

Before Toby could hit him he'd dissolved again, showing up on Toby's other side only moments  
later, grabbing Toby in a headlock. Toby kicked at his legs and they both fell to the floor. Toby  
used a bible to beat with it on Metzger until he let go of him.

"You know what's the nice thing about you ghost's being strong enough to touch things," Toby   
asked. Metzger looked at him uncomprehending. Toby threw a heap of salt in his face, using the  
moment to pick up an iron rack, that was standing nearby carrying some books, and smashed it  
down on Metzger.

"It's much more fun to beat you up," Toby answered his own question.  
This time Metzger didn't recompose.

 

Sam came back from the toilet. Toby was back at the table reading. The salt crunched under Sam's  
feet when he went back to the table.

"Anything happened?"

"Nothing important."

* * *

Dino was back in his (well technically it was still Ryan's) pod, refilling some cartridge cases with  
salt. (Which was a little strange considering, that he was a ghost himself)   
Cyril was sitting on the floor playing with some empty bottles Dino had painted faces on for   
him.

"Hey, lasagna-boy," It sounded from the door.

"Fucking mick," Dino returned fondly without even looking up.

"Fucking sounds good," Ryan replied cheekily.

"'Fucking is a bad word," Cyril reminded them, brows furrowed in reprimanding disappointment.

"Wow, it's like we got a kid together."

"If we wanna make out, we probably shouldn't take Cyril with us on patrol."

"Yeah, it would suck, if my brother got killed because, I wanted to get some."

"We could take Schillinger on the team and tie him up and leave him in an empty locker, or  
something."

"I'd rather tie you up."

Dino's head, that had returned to watching the task at hand, whipped up in surprise.  
"Dude, you can't say stuff like that in public! What if Cyril repeats it to someone?!"

"First: Wow, it's really like we have a kid. And second: Who cares about the others? What are  
you a prude?"

"Coming from Mister 'I'm so straight I don't even jerk off because I don't touch dick'? What   
happened to appearances are so fucking precious?"

"Well, that was before hell opened it's portals to drain us in evil shit. And just because you're  
suddenly dead and open-minded that doesn't give you the right to point fingers at others."

 

They weren't talking to each other when they joined the others in the daily meeting, shooting  
dirty looks at each other over Toby who found himself standing between them. Toby ignored  
them for the better part of two minutes. Then he snapped.

"Seriously guys, can you get over your silly enmity, please! You would do us all a fucking favor!"

"I could go on patrol with you two and we could talk it out," Sister Pete offered.

"Nah, that's all right, Sister," Ryan declined, "We'll deal with it ourselves."

"We've all seen you're dealing with it in the past," Peter remarked, rolling his eyes.

"They're going to fight?" Olivia asked.

"They're going to fight," McManus confirmed.

"Ten dollars on O'Reily," Chris stated, watching the two walk away.

"Twenty on the ghost," Elliot joined in.

"Seriously, we all made compromises in this we even managed to get along with Schillinger  
more or less," McManus complained, "All we're asking is for them to be civil to each other."

 

"Be civil, Ortolani."

Ryan heard a light chuckle against his throat before he felt teeth grazing his skin again.  
Dino's lips were at his throat slowly wandering down to his collarbone. Ryan heard the thud   
of his head making contact with the wall, when he let his head roll back. He heard Dino's groan  
when he gripped his hair just a little harder. He heard the sound escaping his mouth, when   
Dino's mouth was on his'. He felt the smirk still forming on those lips, that turned into something   
else when he grabbed Dino's ass pulling him closer, their hips bumping into each other.

* * *

"Talking about Schillinger, where the fuck is he anyway," McManus asked alarmed and pissed-off.  
The others just shrugged. He stopped Robson who was just walking by on his way. Asking the same.

"No idea, haven't seen him all day," Robson answered, before walking away, humming to himself  
contently.

"Dammit, is it so hard to just stay in groups and not walk around here on your own?!"

"Don't get a hissy-fit, McManus," Chris placated him half-assedly, "He's bound to be somewhere.  
After all was there ever anyone who didn't turn up again sooner or later?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You can't do this!"

"Watch me," Peter answered.

"Are you others just going to stand there?!"

"What do you think?" Richie asked, leaning back against the wall with an amused smile.

"You fucked him too," Schillinger screamed at Adebisi, rage and disbelief burning in his eyes.

"Yes. So just think of this in terms of expiation."

"Andy! You can't just let them do this!"

"Dad, after everything you've done it still feel some affection for you, but you've killed me. You  
let Hank kill a child. Because of you Hank is dead and you hurt God knows how many other people.  
And you've made me hurt other people. It's been enough, Dad. It's time for you to stop. It's time  
for you to go," Andy let out a deep sigh, before turning to Peter, "I'm not going to watch this."

Then he was gone.

"What the fuck's going on here?"

They all jerked around looking towards the source of disturbance.

"Thank God, Robson. These motherfuckers wanted to off me. Help me out, here."

"You really sure about that, Vern?" Robson asked with faux seriousness, "Who knows what   
people might think when they see us together."

"Cut it out, Robson, and get the fuck over here," There was the slight edge of desperation layered  
under his commanding tone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* * *

He still carried himself with absolute confidence. Every move deliberate. The smooth way his   
body stretched, when he flexed his back. Yawning. One hand brushing back his hair. Then he   
must have felt his stares, because he turned around. Leisurely. No haste. Whoever had entered   
his spheres could wait. He would be pushed by no one. The corners of his mouth curled into a   
smirk when he identified the source of his distraction. The look he got was on of amusement,  
satisfaction without surprise. Like he expected that he would be watched.  
Those eyes, that at the same time mocked and claimed him, took now their turn to wander   
over Ryan's body. Taking his time. Leaning against the counter of  
cafeteria. Holding Ryan's gaze over the whole 50 meters of space between them. Ryan wondered   
fleetingly how many of the others had already put one and one together. Not that it mattered.   
At their current location, drifting around somewhere in Limbo, all bets were off.

* * *

"What do you want Metzger. Wasn't the last time enough for you," Toby eyed him with a   
derisive stare. Getting his gun ready.

"I'm sure you would," Metzger smirked, "Only, I'm not him," He turned into Gene, "Don't you  
think it's unfair that you are alive, when I'm dead," Walked closer, "Oh yes, you do," A slight  
chuckle.

 

Toby came running towards Chris and the others, looking positively panicked.

"Come quickly!! There's something you have to see!"

"What? Are you alright, Toby?"

"Yeah, sure. Just hurry!"

They all followed him towards death row. Where they saw a body laying on the floor in  
a puddle of blood. Toby looked at Chris with glee sparkling in his eyes.

"I just killed your boyfriend."

Chris sank down beside the body, turning it over to see the face. The sound he made was   
something that could only be described as feral if one even tried to find a word for it.  
The ghost sank down between him in Genevieve's shape.

"Did you think you could continue like this? That you deserve to have someone by your  
side? Don't you see it? You all deserve to be undone."

Chris lunged at the ghost, without any use. He was hurled against the wall.

"Now, now, Christopher," Gene scolded him playfully, before turning to the others, "You  
should maybe do something about the body. Before it starts to stink."

With that she was gone.

* * *

"Where is he," It was such a small sound they almost didn't hear it, after having watched Chris  
just sit there for several minutes, without knowing how to approach him, "Where is he?! WHERE   
THE FUCK IS HE?!"

"What are you talking about, Chris," Sister Pete asked carefully.

A growl, and then.

"His ghost! Where. Is. His. Ghost?!"

"I don't know," Dino answered, shaking his head, "It's not an exact science. Some ghost take   
longer some shorter. It can be days weeks or months until a soul has stabilized enough to manifest."

* * *

Part 9: The Bitter End

* * *

He woke up in the cell and everything was unchanged. 

Toby was still gone. 

What had this fucker said? 

It could take some time for the ghost to materialize? Fuck this!

Toby was dead. 

This wasn't supposed to be happening. 

He'd been so sure he'd be able to protect him.

 

"Isn't it exactly as you wanted it to be?"

Chris knew it wasn't Toby. It was like someone had put a Toby-mask on, playing the role awkwardly.

"Not you. Not now."

"Don't you remember, Chris?" Toby-not-Toby settled in front of him, placing his hands on Chris'   
thighs, "You," The pressure of one finger against his chest, "called me. Anyone. Anyhow. Anything.   
When the prison was built at this forsaken ground that had been »my« prison for far too long,   
I'd had hopes, that someone would call upon my powers. But in all those years, no one in this   
cage build from blood, tears and hopelessness, was desperate enough to put everything on   
stake. And then came you," He was so close to Chris' face now that they might as well haven   
been initiating a kiss, "And you were so close to breaking. And you would have given anything.   
And you would have gladly sacrificed anyone, to only have him returned to you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you do."

 

And then he did. And it all pushed past him. All the mistakes he'd made, and would make again   
because that's how he is. 

~You knew me Toby. You knew me all the way. We've covered the ground of how far I'm willing   
to go pretty early. You knew you shouldn't have believed one word out of my mouth.~

Toby out again. Toby with that Marion woman. Him wanting to have a life. But that was not it. 

~Fuck, that's not it, Toby! I won't be left behind like this! I won't be a memory!~

A meeting with concerned glances and grasped hands. A call. And then Toby was back. 

~Now probably the last part of my soul turned dark. But fuck it! All for you, baby.~

 

"Toby, I love you. I need you." 

~Forever! Forever! We're forever!~

"Oh, you're only making it worse."

~Too late now to get away, Toby.~ 

"You've gotta believe me, I'm innocent."

~This is not over.~ 

"I wish to God I'd left you on death row". 

~This. Won't. End.~

 

A confidential conversation.

"I'll deal with it." 

"No, I'll kill Beecher". 

 

A pair of cuffs and two shanks. 

~Can't you see?! Can't you see?!~

And Toby doesn't understand it. Why can't he understand it?! 

One last deed out of love. Again misinterpreted and used against him. 

~I don't care what trail of blood we'll leave behind us. I'd paint the world red if only we'll be  
together.~

 

And another conversation that leaves him standing at the railing in Em City with only two  
choices.

"I did what I did out of love."

"You're death. Let me live." 

~No. No. No. No! This won't end. This can't end. Ours is a bond made of blood. The further  
you try to get away the more blood there'll be.~

This one instant. Toby backing away from him. Looking like he doesn't know him and pained at  
the same time. He looks at Toby and he's not willing to give this up. To be without this. He won't  
let it end. Because if there's one thing Schillinger was right about, it's that. He'll get by. He   
always does. So he plays. Offering anything, including his life, to anyone, anything. Asking for   
one thing. Begging for one thing. Refusing to be without him. Refusing to accept defeat.   
And somewhere in the dark, something with an even darker, more crooked heart than him,   
answers his call. And it promises to give him that one thing and take away everything else.   
Toby returned to him and nothing shall separate them not even in death. It's all he asks and  
it's all he will get.

And they have a deal.

 

The sudden sprint down memory lane, left him like after a bad trip. His head's spinning  
and his tongue felt too thick in his mouth. But even through waves of dizziness he's aware of  
one evident flaw in all this.

"What about judgment? What about punishing those who did wrong?"

"I don't give a shit about that. Your souls just taste so much better when fear and remorse eat  
away on you."

Toby's mouth laughing at him. Toby's eyes sparkling with sadistic glee.

"Toby is dead! How's that part of our deal?!"

Not-Toby leaned closer to him in a way that's supposed to be lascivious but just looked unnatural.

Chris didn't try to hide his disdain. Not-Toby leaned even closer unfazed, until Chris could feel   
his/it's breath on his face.

"I promised you one thing. If you eventually shouldn't be satisfied with the services I provided, I   
will reset all this to the point where we started. None should be the worse for wear," Not-Toby  
smiled at him in a way Toby never would. It's the smile of someone who's used to playing and  
winning. The smile of someone who's not afraid to swim in dark waters, because he's the shark.  
It's the smile of someone who's not used to looking up. It spoke of bad choices and no regrets.

Chris has often looked at it. In the mirror.

 

Knowing what he did now, Chris had one of those rare opportunities to do the right thing. And   
he took the usual path.

* * *

And suddenly Toby's there again. And he can't describe the joy he feels. He's looking at him   
confused and disoriented.

"Chris? What?"

Chris gets up walking towards him.

"I had a strange dream," Toby continues, "I had finally gotten parole and you managed to trick  
me into getting arrested again. You would never do something like that."

Chris shakes his head smiling, "No. I wouldn't. Never."

They're finally standing in front of each other again. Chris touches Toby's cheek. And then he goes  
right through it. A startled moment of silence. Toby reaches out to him. And then looks at him   
despairingly.

"I'm... " He looks at himself in horrification, "I'm dead."

"It's okay," Chris tries to calm him, while panic rises in him like bile, "It's going to be okay."

* * *

"We might have found a way to defeat the ghost," Sam voiced carefully, "A big 'might' though."

"Just spit it out."

"Hey," Dean nudged Sam, "You're not seriously intending to tell them about that ritual?" He  
whispered angrily."

"Don't you think we should decide that as a group?"

"This stuff is dark," Was all Dean answered.

"I know," Sam retorted.

"This is like seriously dark. This is like jet black magic stuff."

"Maybe we should let Billie Keane perform the ritual then," Chris joked. Toby shot him the look   
of a disappointed kindergarten teacher, which was a lot better than the paled look of desperation  
he'd been sporting before, "Hey, Robson thought that was funny," Chris added and this time got   
something like a upward curl of Toby's mouth.

"Fuck you, Keller," Robson flipped him off.

"It's a ritual involving several not perfectly conventional items, including a human sacrifice,"   
Sam told them, weighing each word carefully.

There was a short chortled laugh before they realized Sam hadn't been joking.

"No," McManus and Elliot stated nearly at the same time, "Absolutely not."

"Hey, let the man finish," Ryan retorted.

"This is under no circumstances acceptable," Father Mukada uttered shocked.

"The way I see it. We either die here or do something about it," Peter let his gaze wander,  
meeting everyones eyes, "We're long past the point of hoping that someones coming to safe  
us. And there are enough people in here, that no one will miss."

A shocked gasp escaped Sister Pete's mouth. His words though got several nods all around.

"So, if we do this, it all ends. This thing vanishes and with him the other ghosts loose their   
power too and won't be able to reach us any longer," Miguel asked.

"Technically, that's how it should go down," Dino agreed.

"Seriously? Are we considering to sacrifice a human being right now?" Dean interjected.

"We're just considering our options," Peter placated him, "Chill."

"See," Sam looked at Dean defiantly, "They see my point. The alternative is each single one of  
us dying in here."

"What do you mean all the ghosts vanish too?" Ryan asked with a nearly impalpable edge to   
his voice.

"Everything goes back to what it was before," Sam explained, "The ghosts will still be here, but  
you won't be able to see them and they will be unable to interact with you."

"There won't be any killings in here while I'm still alive," McManus growled.

"I think that's a problem we have a solution for," Jia stated.  
Before the discussion got any more heated. Chris stepped forward.

"I volunteer."

There was a pause, everyone waiting for the punchline. Then it just became stunned silence.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Toby gaped incredulously.

* * *

After the stalemate reached during their discussion. They all went back to their pods for the   
night. So far they'd gotten as far as 'we might be doing this in the future'. But seriously people  
were dying like flies and there was no predicting what might happen next.

"Shit, I can't believe we're going to do this... " Ryan uttered.

Dino raised his head from where it had rested on Ryan's chest.

"It's not like we have much more options, or any for that matter."

The weight of their shared knowledge pressed down on them.

"Yeah, but maybe... we still might find some loophole."

That got him a snort from Dino.

"We both know how this will end," Dino looked at some spot in the distance of outside their   
cell, "I wonder, if I'd still been alive," He added with a wry expression, "If we'd somehow   
managed »this« what would have become of us," Just now he'd chuckled, but now he bit his   
lip, making eye contact with Ryan for the first time since he'd started talking, "Would it have   
been happily ever after," Before Ryan had a chance to either contemplate or answer, Dino   
made a dismissive gesture, his laugh wiping away the seriousness of his words.

"Yeah. Maybe we would have," Ryan answered nevertheless, not quite sure of his voice, "Who   
knows," He shrugged, "Maybe I'll be dead too, before this is over."

"No. Not you. I'll make sure of that."

* * *

"Why would you do something like that, you stupid man," Toby asked with the sting of tears in   
his eyes. In the back of his mind he knew why Chris had volunteered.

"Do you really think I want to wait until I'm old and gray to see you again," Chris answered with  
a lopsided smirk. Toby felt a mixture of anger, frustration and panic flare up in him.

"We don't even know where we'll go when it's over! What if it just ends? What if we go nowhere?"

"Toby, I can't face the rest of my life living here without you."

"Look, will you get it through your head, I want you to live. I have no right to take your life. That's  
what it would mean. Me taking your life. I'm death. I want you to live!"

"Well, that's bullshit. It's not much of a life in here anyway. I don't give a shit about where we go.  
The only thing that matters is you and me."

Chris moved closer to him, their chests would have been brushing. It still took some getting used to   
the fact that he no longer could touch Toby. Otherwise was no difference, Toby looked just the same,  
even though his body was down in the morgue, boxed in. 

"I won't let you slip through my fingers this time."

That finally teased a smile out of Toby. His hand was still resting just a little bit over Chris' chest, his eyes  
watching it rise and fall.

* * *

Gloria came walking towards Ryan, swaying a little in her walk.

"Ryan, I'm not feeling too good... "

"What's wrong," He steadied her with a grip to her elbow.

"I don't kn... " Her body started to convulse, her eyes going blank, while he stopped her from   
falling to the floor.

"Help! I need help in here!!"

The nurses came running towards him, soon followed by everyone that had been in hearing   
range.

"What happened to her?" Father Mukada came rushing into the room horrification written on  
his face.

"I don't know," Ryan yelled back outraged by his inability to help.

"Looks like a drug-overdose to me," Adebisi proposed.

"No," Dean, who'd been scrutinizing her since he came in, interrupted, "This looks more like a  
case of failed possession. Her body couldn't adapt to the new host and just shot down."

"So what do we do now?" Sister Pete's voice was laced with the urgency of slowly seeping   
through panic.

"I don't know... " Dean looked over to Sam, helpless, but he only shook his head.

"I can't do much more either," The nurse said close to tears, "I'm not a doctor!"

The desperate silence that followed had only a few moments to settle, before the beeping of   
monitor beside Gloria started to cut through it.  
No one needed one of the nurses to tell what the unmistakable horizontal line on the monitor  
meant.

"No, no, no! Come on Gloria," Ryan was hunched at the side of the gurney, while one of the  
nurses readied the defibrilliator. Any minute she spent without breathing was a minute that got  
her closer to ending up like Cyril or dead. 

Finally they had a weak pulse again. 

"That's all I can do for her, right now," The nurse explained distressed, "We need another  
doctor."

"But we don't have one and it doesn't look like we're about to get one soon enough," McManus   
answered.

"Is she still in there?" Ryan asked Dino, afraid of the answer.

"I'm not sure."

"How can you not be sure?! Either her spirit is still in there or she's floating around here!"

"It's not like it's a precise science. New spirits don't manifest themselves immediately. It told you  
all that already. It can take hours, days, months or even years."

"Dammit," Ryan kicked against the wall, feeling like he was making up for it with this kind of   
reaction, that deep down, he realized he should be feeling more right now. He felt terrified of  
loosing one person. And as much as he'd wanted it to be different it wasn't Gloria.

* * *

"You don't have to do that," Elliot told him between clenched teeth, "You mustn't do that!"

"You know anyone else who's volunteering," Chris asked with a wry smile, playing down the  
situation.

"There has to be a way!"

"I agree, we have to try," Dean backed him up.

"If we wait any longer who knows who else is going to die! Gloria needs medical attention   
now! Sorry, man," Ryan turned to Chris, "But these are the facts."

"I'm completely agreeing with you," Chris answered evenly.

"Dean, we tried. We failed. We're out of options," Sam stated matter-of-factly. Dean just gave  
him a disbelieving stare.

"So that's that. Let's get the ritual started," Chris pressed on.

"Alright, do we have everything," Peter asked, "Rosemary, thyme, blood of a clerical man,  
blood of twins, lucky coincidence, huh. Hand of a dead man."

"Hey, McManus, I thought you draw the line at sawing of feet. Hands seem to be okay, though."

Chris received only dirty looks for that.

"Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood."

Peter continued unfazed.

"Sulfuric, and of course most important our human sacrifice."

* * *

"What's going to happen to me now?" There was sad little smile looking out of his scared face.  
Like a child looking up to his parent wanting to be told that death would never affect him.  
Unguarded trust and hope.  
His resolve was unbroken, yet his courage was leaving him so short before the end.

"It's going to be okay, Chris," Toby hushed him, putting his arms around him as far as it was possible.  
Somewhere inside Chris' head the question was spinning, how the ghost would allow this. If with this   
were still playing into its hands.

"It'll be all over," His voice choked in his throat, "What if we'll be gone then? What if I go to hell?"

"You won't," Toby's voice was strong and reassuring, "And if you do, I'll be there with you. Forever.  
Okay? I won't leave you. Trust me. Trust me."

Toby's words brushed against his befuddled mind, keeping the slowly growing ice of fear at bay.  
Again and again, it was all he heard, while life slowly left him. Not once did Toby stop talking, his   
voice reassuringly rippling down on him.

 

They all felt the pressure of power that had lain over the prison for days and days, feeling like  
sulphuric mud and swamp pressing down on them, lift. With that power gone what had kept   
them here left them too. Toby felt the energy that had been buzzing through him disintegrating,  
tearing at the matter that formed now his self. Still he held onto the fuzz of energy that was Chris  
now, waiting for fragile structure of power to collapse, waiting for the ripping that would end   
everything.

* * *

There was no great explosion. No gate to hell opening up. No sign at all they had succeeded.  
Except of the constantly burning red light of the emergency tell-tale, that spoke of the security  
lockdown, going out.

No one ran to the doors, histrionically screaming something like "Freedom!". They all just stood  
there, fixed to the spot. Waiting for the big "Bam!".

Elliot leaned down to check Chris' pulse. His face was gray, though they all knew what to expect.

"He's dead," He stated nearly toneless. Olivia pulled him into an embrace, like a mother a   
distressed child.

"Is it over?" McManus turned to Dean.

"I guess it is."

"There's nothing there anymore," Peter agreed.

Ryan didn't need any affirmation, he'd felt it when Dino's body had dissolved. What a strange   
intermezzo. Giving him all this, after so many years, just for a taste, just so he knew what it   
could have been like. It didn't matter. He had survived as he always did.

* * *

They all stumbled out of the again open front gate of Oz. No one bothering to keep the prisoners  
among them in check. Everyone was busy breathing the fresh night air again. After having had  
nothing but the filtrated air inside Oz for what felt like years.

"Hey, we have mobile reception again," Dean exclaimed delighted. He turned around to Sam, 

"I got thirty missed calls from Cas."

"Maybe you should call back," Sam suggested, as if he hadn't done so about a hundred times  
already.

Reluctantly Dean dialed the first number he had on speed dial.

"I was worried," A grave voice behind him suddenly said.

"Yeah," Turning around, Dean arched an eyebrow, looking less than impressed, "To a very slight   
degree I assume, considering you hadn't the time to check by and see if we're still alive," He   
shot back acidic.

"I couldn't find you. Remember the symbols I carved into your bones, for that specific reason,"   
Castiel answered with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, which was out of character enough for   
him.

"Oh God," Sam face-palmed himself, "I can't believe I didn't think about that," He groaned.

"Hey, I didn't think about it either," Dean tried to console him, looking a little bit guilty at  
Castiel.

"Don't worry," Sam patted him on the back, "No one expected you to think about that."

"Hey, I'm stupid now, or what?!"

"I think I'm not going to answer that question," Castiel answered with his usual serious voice.  
Sam made a mental note to explain to him that, just not answering an awkward question, wasn't  
always the politest way out.

* * *

"We'll be going then, I guess," Sam told McManus, "Before police and press arrive."

"Unless," Dean added, "You'd prefer we break out."

"I'll think of something. Don't worry," He turned a questioning look over to Elliot and Olivia.

"Don't you mind us. We've seen absolutely nothing.

 

When all hell broke loose, the prisoners were back inside their cells. Father Mukada was sitting  
on the stairs of the front gate his face buried in his palms. Sister Pete was accompanying the  
paramedics who took Gloria to the hospital. Elliot and Olivia slowly resolved their hug that had  
soon turned into a kiss, turning around to face the police.

And McManus scuffproof as ever stood tall with Murphy by his side, telling the police officers  
the story of a failure in the locking systems.

* * *

Part 10: Everyone Who's Still Standing Deserves A Happy Ending

* * *

"The emergency lockdown due to a shortcut at the Ozwald state prison has finally come to a   
bloody end. The prison that had been in the headlines four years ago, when a violent and   
shocking riot erupted has jet again fallen victim to a tragic mishap that claimed the lives of  
twenty-three prisoners and five Correctional Officers. Governor Devlin has already assembled  
a committee that will to determine factors that triggered the happenings.  
The prisoner Vernon Schillinger, convicted of several Hate Crimes and conspiracy to commit   
murder, as well as Dean Ackles and Sam Padalecki, convicted for armed robbery, are still reported   
missing. The police warns the population. It can not be ruled out that the prisoners escaped."

* * *

"So, I guess everything's going back to normal now," McManus said.

Everyone was standing around awkwardly. After having fought for their lives together it was  
weird go back to being COs and inmates again.

"Who is ever going to believe what happened here?" Ryan mused.

"No one. Unless we want to be institutionalized as insane, this goes into the files as an electronic  
malfunction of the locking system."

* * *

"How are you feeling, Peter," Sister Pete scrutinized him over the rims of her glasses.

"I'm feeling better than I have in a long time," He smiled at her.

* * *

The prisoners had finally all boarded the busses that would take them to Lardner while the security check-up  
ran at Oz.

Ryan let his gaze wander over the fellow prisoners from Em City in his bus. Thinking about the people who were   
missing. Whether they were missed or not.  
Miguel riding in the bus with the inmates from psych ward. The remaining two Muslims, with Said dead and Arif on  
death row. He pictured Chris and Toby sitting somewhere in the front, side by side having eyes for no one but the  
other. Someone making a crude remark. He imagined the same for him and Dino.  
He would miss them all.

McManus and Murphy stayed behind a moment, their gazes resting on the building, where they'd just survived  
their probably hardest trial.

"We'll be back," Murphy said.

"Yeah, we'll be back."

* * *

"Five months after the newest incident, while still struggling with getting back to normal, the Oswald   
State Prison has managed to get into the papers yet again. Today ended the highly   
disputed trial against the mentally handycapped Cyril O'Reily, who 6 months ago killed a   
fellow inmate in claimed self-defense. He was found guilty of murder and sentenced to death.  
Though the prisoners currently being housed at Lardner State Prison until the security check-up  
in Oz is over, the execution will be at Oswald."

* * *

"Hey, you asshole! I wanna see my brother!!!"

"Shut the fuck up, O'Reily!"

"Take me the fuck to McManus!"

 

"Sorry, Ryan. He's new," McManus apologized after closing the office door on the CO outside,

"I'm sorry I couldn't keep Cyril with you."

"It's okay, Tim, I know. Fucking Querns."

* * *

"Peter today I wanna talk about." Sister Pete paused a moment, "How are you feeling about  
your case being dropped, due to then continuing absence of Schillinger?"

"I feel like I had the chance to work through this experience, due to your help," He smiled at her,

"I think I've managed to come to terms with it, as far as that's possible," He smiled again only  
this time the smile wasn't for Sister Pete, but for himself.

* * *

"Today the the execution of Cyril O'Reily was conducted, despite the ongoing protest of numerous  
human rights groups. Expectantions of the sentence being overturned last minute, by Governor  
Devlin, turned out to have been in vain.  
Nevertheless the out turn was rather unexpected, though it's not the first »divine intervention«  
at the Ozwald State Prison. Somehow a rat had gotten into the control box operating the electric  
chair, causing a short-circuit. With the execution having proceeded according to the rules, state  
law forbids a second execution for the same crime and Cyril O'Reily will return to serving his  
original life sentence. Human Rights supporter as well as congregations all around the state   
talk about this being a steppingstone in the fight against death penalty."

* * *

"Cyril, Jesus Christ," Ryan pulled his brother into a crushing embrace, "You're back!"

* * *

Now everything really was back to normal. They were back at Oz, though Querns (who'd grasped  
the chance to take over after all that chaos) and McManus were still having fist fights about   
reopening Em City. His brother was back with him without the threat of imminent death. Well,  
without additional threat of imminent death.   
He kinda missed Dino these days. Cross 'kinda'. Make this an 'all days'. He'd been around him for so   
long 24/7. It was like it all had just been a dream. Hadn't it been for the various lives taken.   
The trial of Cyril had taken his mind off of things for quite some time, but now... Now he was back to   
thinking. About the short dream he and Dino had had.   
Like Chris and Toby. It felt unnatural not to have them here any longer. Sometimes he couldn't   
quite believe that Chris would go down just like that.

 

He went to the supply room to have a smoke, when he heard voices inside. What the fuck, this  
was his place, what stupid fucks had the nerve to occupy his recreational area. Angrily he stepped  
inside.

"Okay, motherfuckers! Get high somewhere else, this is my place---Oh fuck... Oh fuck. Guys  
I really didn't need to see this," Ryan exclaimed putting a hand over his eyes.

"I think we all agree, that this is first of all my place," Chris answered easygoing.

"What?! What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I thought that was rather obvious," Chris answered with a smirk, which got him a punch in the  
side from Toby.

"We were kinda in between for some time. But then we manifested again. Guess how surprised  
we were to end up here again. Seems we're still too attached to this world."

"So now we're the resident poltergeists," Chris added, "Good for you."

* * *

Gloria hesitantly opened her eyes, sitting up on the hospital bed. Sister Pete who'd been   
sleeping on a chair beside her bed, woke up with a jump.

"Gloria! Thank god," She threw her arms around her.

* * *

Ryan was still reeling with shock when he returned to Unit B. McManus walked over to him,   
speaking to him in a confidential voice.

"Ryan, Gloria just woke up in St. Thomas today. She's just checked herself out and came over  
here. She wants to see you."

Oh fuck. Was all Ryan could think in that second. When just now he had agonized over asking  
Toby and Chris if Dino was with them. Now Gloria would be sent back into the equation.

 

Ryan sneaked into the infirmary. Gloria was already waiting for him in her office. They kissed  
deeply after having shut the door.

"I love you," Gloria said.

He kissed her again.

"You know, I think I just saw the ghosts of Beecher and Keller," Ryan told her, "I thought it was  
over. I thought they were all gone, like Dino."

"Do you miss him?" She inquired.

"Who?"

"Dino."

Ryan was caught off-guard, "Pffh, why would I," He tried to shrug, but it looked more like  
squirming, "He helped me out a little and that was that... Yeah, I guess I do miss him a little,"   
he confessed grudgingly.

"Now, that things are as they were before, the ghosts have lost their additional strength, now  
they can't touch humans any longer. Some can still make an apparition or move things, like  
Beecher and Keller, but some can only watch," She told in a sad voice.

"How do you know so much about that?" Ryan asked puzzled.

"Well, how do I?" Gloria answered. And the smile was so entirely unlike her, and when he   
looked into her eyes and saw the mocking gleam there, he knew that it weren't her eyes   
any longer.

"It was you the whole time," Ryan half-asked, half-stated.

"She'd been gone since her heart had stopped. The only problem was I couldn't leave the grounds,  
but when Sister Pete took some of her stuff over to the hospital I could attach myself to it, leaving  
with her."

"What do you want?"

"To be with you. I meant it when I said that I love you," Now the look in her eyes was more  
obstinate, "You can take it or leave it. It's all you'll be getting."

Ryan looked at him long with an unreadable expression.

"Where you the one that tried to possess her that first time?"

"I might have," She held his gaze, "What if?"

Instead of an answer Ryan put his arms around her again, pulling her close. An embrace that  
would have seemed regular enough, if it hadn't been for Ryan holding her just a little too tight,  
for his breath coming out a little hitched, for his voice sounding raw with emotion.

"I love you too, Dino," He whispered into her ear.

* * *

Part 11: Post

* * *

»OZ. Ten months after the world ended. And McManus, in his undying vocation to believe in the  
good in people, has yet again reopened Em City. It's a new deal. It's probably even a fair deal.  
But in Oz things don't change, or do they?«

* * *

"Hey Mineo," Ryan greeted him with handshake, "How's it going?"

"Could be better. But hey, we're alive," Mineo answered with chuckle, before walking on.

"Hey, O'Reily," McManus called.

"Aw, it's time for my visit again," He walked over to McManus, "Already? Really, Tim?"

"You know how it is, Ryan, now that the baby's there. We can play cards meanwhile," McManus  
placated him.

They walked to one of the private visitor rooms, locking the door after McManus had sent the CO  
away.

"Hey, Elliot," Ryan greeted him with a tip to his imaginative hat.

"Ryan. Tim," Elliot nodded towards them.

"We really appreciated what you're doing for us."

"Don't mention it," McManus answered.

"You're one to talk, Tim. I'm the one playing the scapegoat here after all," Ryan said.

"Hey, I expect a little more gratitude and awe, O'Reily," Chris said smilingly, while flipping him   
the bird, "After all we've saved your brothers ass."

"Do I want to know what you're talking about?" McManus asked.

"Do you really have to ask?" Ryan shot back.

"Nevermind, deal the cards," McManus threw Ryan a deck. Meanwhile Elliot turned his attention  
to the person he was really visiting.

"Hey, Chris," He smiled brightly.

"Yo, Elliot," Chris took a seat across from Elliot, it kinda freaked Elliot out if he was standing in  
the midst of the table, though he thought it was fun. But well, Toby had already told him that it  
was childish that he still got so much fun out of scaring fellow inmates.

"How's Olivia? How's the baby?"

"Olivia and Chris are fine. How are you two?"

"Oh, you know, I'm stuck her for eternity with the Queen-Bitch," Chris answered with a grin.

"I heard that," Toby announced from the other table, where he was playing cards with Ryan and  
McManus.

* * *

"Hey, O'Reily," Poet yelled over to him, "You're getting an awful lot of attention lately. First that  
Cop and now the entire Beecher clan?"

"What can I say, I'm just that popular."

 

"Hey Daddy!"

"Holly-baby," Toby threw his arms around his daughter. In times like this he knew why he'd  
meticulously trained touching things again.

 

"Well, if it isn't the brother," Chris greeted Angus.

"Well, if it isn't the brother-in-law."

* * *

"Hey, you already heard," Poet walked over to the prisoners assembled in front of the TV.

"What up?"

"Peter Schibetta is getting out of psych."

"Word?"

"Word."

 

"Hey, Peter," Pancamo and the other Italians greeted him, "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," Peter answered returning the offered hug, "So, what do you say," He  
turned towards the others, "do we take over the mail room now that Schillinger's gone?"

He got cheerful agreement from the others, while Pancamo pulled him to the side.

"Petey, you belong to us, but you're not seriously thinking you're getting back in? Not after..."  
he let the sentence open in the air like that.

Peter only smiled at him turning his glance towards Pancamo's hand still on his arm and then  
back to him. He smiled the same smile that'd been created the day he'd last seen Schillinger.

Pancamo let go of his arm and took a step back.

* * *

"Are we going to get a problem," Ryan asked, leaning against the railing next to Peter.

"I don't see why we should. Benefits us both if we work together."

"By the way, Keller is in it too."

"Of course he is," Peter chuckled.

* * *

"You know, we could have had a romantic night, just the two of us. I don't know, watching the   
stars or something," Chris muttered, throwing his hands up in annoyance, "But no, you of  
course would rather spend a night in the library."

"Stop whining, it's for a good cause. By the way I think it's self-explanatory that I can't have books   
flying through the air in broad daylight, with actual people around."

"Yeah, sure, go and save the day."

"It's something productive to do with the rest of my li... death?"

"It surprises me every time that those guys actually listen to legal advise that a voice whispers  
to them through thin air."

"Don't be jealous, I still love you best," Toby smirked at him. They kept on bickering all the way  
to the library. Toby was about to turn the lights on, when there was a small voice coming out of   
the dark. The electrical light illuminated the shape moving towards them.

"Daddy... " The small boy with the light-brown hair, they'd seen so much those past weeks   
made a hesitant step towards them.

"Oh no, is it starting all over again?" Toby asked with horror.

* * *

"Yo, Dean, we need you guys here there's something you should see," Ryan told him on the   
phone.

"Again?"

"You know we're still officially on the list of escapees?"

"Get. Your. Ass. Over. Here."

 

"Homeland security. Agent Mulder. These are the agents Scully and McLovin. We're here to  
see one Ryan O'Reily."

The two COs let them through without a problem.

"Tim McManus is already waiting for you."

They heard the COs murmuring to each other while they walked through the gate.

"I bet it's something with the IRA."

"I knew it."

 

"I can't believe they didn't recognize us," Sam said in wonder.

"Fake beards, I tell you. Or maybe it's Cas. After all they're looking for two guys."

"Why did I have to put on a fake beard too," Castiel asked, "They haven't seen me before."

"I just thought I'd look funny on you," Dean shrugged.

 

They were all looking at the child with apprehension. Chris anxiously watching Toby, who was  
moving around it with much more ease then the others.

"It's a completely normal ghost," Castiel said before the brothers had got their equipment out.

"It's a completely normal ghost," Sam asked with disbelief.

"But how can that be?" Toby asked, not ready to allow himself to hope, "He didn't die here.  
God knows where, but not here," Toby added in a faint voice, choking down tears.

"I think I know how," Chris said in sudden realization, "Dean, you said that things like hair and  
stuff can keep the ghost too, right?"

Dean nodded. Sam paled in realization. He'd been told the whole gruesome story by Toby.

"I think everything with this ghost is alright. There's just one question, do you want us to put   
him to rest, or not," Castiel asked.

"So, how is it, Chris?" Toby asked, "are you up to raising a child with me?"

"Damn, I'd have your babies, if you'd ask me to."

 

Toby was heading back to Em City with Gary. Sam, Dean and Castiel had left already. Chris let his   
gaze travel over the floor, finally resting on the two shapes in the distance. His family.  
A smile formed on his lips, "Separated not even in death, huh?"


End file.
